


And the Void Shall Never Take You

by ghostchibi



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Crossover, Mental Health Issues, Other, Slow Burn, no appearance specified other than being human for that matter, no gender specified for Sole Survivor/Inquisitor, spoilers for Blind Betrayal sort of?, the Sole Survivor and the Inquisitor are the same person, the mature rating isn't for smut though sorry kiddies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:16:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostchibi/pseuds/ghostchibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Sole Trevelyan is more than happy to have the aid of a group of Templars who seem to have removed themselves from the rest of the Templar Order, although the Inquisitor doesn't completely agree with their views. Nevertheless, they are reliable, and Knight-Captain Danse in particular proves to be a capable, dependable companion to the Inquisitor.</p><p>That is, until Danse is caught in the middle of a terrible discovery, and the Inquisitor must fight tooth and nail to save him.</p><p>(But saving isn't always about going blade to blade.)</p><p>-----</p><p>A Fallout 4/Dragon Age Inquisition crossover interpretation of Blind Betrayal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paladindanse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paladindanse/gifts).



> An idea originally shared by [paladindanse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/paladindanse/) on their tumblr that spiraled into a reblog chain of idea back-and-forth and then into this.
> 
> Laziness and a desire to not use any specific Sole Survivor as the Inquisitor has led to me just naming the Inquisitor in this fic "Sole." The Inquisitor/Sole Survivor's companions in this fic are a mix of both the companions from Inquisition and Fallout 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the Knight-Captain for the first time; Danse's armor is... unique.

Knight-Captain Danse is a man of a rather commanding presence. The title itself seems to mean little to the templar, but he carries himself with the air of a man who certainly deserves such a title. He walks past the mages grouped in the courtyard without much of a side glance despite the titters and a few jeers, as Sole watches from Vivienne's balcony. They understand why the Knight-Captain was sent to meet the Inquisition, rather than only a messenger. Vivienne is watching too, standing next to them as they lean against the railing of the balcony to get a better view.

"Do you happen to know of him, Vivienne? He looks Orlesian, except without that 'useless noble' feel."

"I am afraid not, my dear. He does seem like a very impressive character. We shall see if his appearances stand true to his personality."

"Hmm. I have a feeling these aren't regular templars we're dealing with."

"Certainly not, Inquisitor."

* * *

 

"Good day to you, ser," the Inquisitor says, and the templar respectfully salutes them with an arm over his chest and a nod of the head.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan. I understand that your time is precious, so I shall be brief."

His voice is deep, and very, very serious.

"I am Knight-Captain Danse. My Knight-Commander Maxson leads a small group of templars who have broken away from the Templar Order. We have been doing what we can to stop the demons that have been appearing, but there is only so much that we can do on our own. We heard that you are looking for allies; we wish to aid you."

Sole regards the Knight-Captain with some wariness. There's no way that this group of templars hasn't heard of the Inquisition's alliance with the rebel mages, and yet they still wish to help. Perhaps the helping part was honest, but with Red Templars all around and even the Seekers in a questionable state, the Inquisitor is cautious.

"This is unexpected, to be truthful. I have already allied myself with the Grand Enchanter and her mages. And yet, a group of templars comes along, wishing to ally themselves to the Inquisition?" they ask. Danse nods.

"We understand that you are... receiving aid from the rebel mages. But right now, there are greater issues at hand. Knight-Commander Maxson is not an unreasonable man. If this Breach is not sealed, then there will be much more dangerous problems other than mages running amok."

The Inquisitor turns to Josephine, motioning her over. She comes forward with her quill at the ready.

"If you are to be allied with me, you'll need to be supplied. How large is this group?" Sole asks.

"We have roughly 50 templars ready to fight, and a dozen or so currently recovering from injuries or illness. Supplies will not be a major issue at the moment, Inquisitor," Danse says. "The Brotherhood of Steel has recaptured a stronghold in Crestwood which had been previously occupied by bandits. The supplies will last for at least three months, although after that there will be a need for trade."

"Three months," Sole repeats as Josephine's quill scribbles away next to them. "That... shouldn't be an issue, then. At least in the immediate future."

"Yes. Also, I apologize for taking up so much of your time, Inquisitor, but-"

"The time you're taking up is time I would otherwise spend entertaining the whining of some Orlesian noble," Sole interrupts. "I would much rather hear what you have to say, Knight-Captain."

"Right," he replies, and Sole doesn't miss the smug smirk on the templar's face for just a moment before it returns to its previous serious demeanor. "Knight-Commander Maxson is more than capable of commanding the number of men under him currently. He and I both believe that I may be of greater aid to serve you directly, Inquisitor."

"...interesting."

The Knight-Commander is lending his second-in-command to Sole. Sole can't help but feel that they're being given an offering.

"I see no reason not to accept. Welcome to the Inquisition, Knight-Captain Danse."

* * *

"So Bucket-head-"

" _Excuse me?_ "

Sole has to shove their face into their scarf to keep from laughing out loud. Behind them, Danse is staring at Varric with equal parts utter disbelief and complete disdain.

"What, don't like your nickname?" Varric asks. "It's that armor you and your group of templars wear. You look like you got stuck in a bucket, or something."

"I do _not_ look like I'm stuck in a bucket!"

"Sorry Knight-Captain, but Varric has a point," Preston says, lowering his bow with a chuckle. "That armor is rather... big."

"It is _protective_ and _incredibly useful_ ," Danse shoots back, looking rather red.

"It's also the loudest thing I've ever heard in my entire life," the Minutemen leader adds. "Louder than a bunch of rattling chains on a metal chestplate."

Danse huffs and turns to the Inquisitor for help. Unfortunately for him, Sole is too busy attempting to muffle their laughter in their scarf.

"Inquisitor!" Danse says in the most offended tone Sole has ever heard. "Not you as well!"

"I wouldn't be laughing if they weren't right!"

It seems that Danse has settled into the Inquistor's inner circle quite well. Varric clearly wasted no time in giving him a nickname, and despite his clear dislike of mages and qunari, Danse has made an effort to speak to everyone at least once. He may be regretting that decision, actually, given that Bull's new favorite pastime appears to be needling Danse about literally everything, and Sera and Cait have designated him to be their new prank victim.

At least bringing one of those three along with Danse doesn't lead to any shouting like it did when Sole made the regrettable mistake of hauling Solas and Danse to the Emerald Graves.

* * *

As it turns out, Danse is completely right about his armor.

Sole puts their arm out to block the downward swipe of a terror demon, bracing themself against sharp claws. But instead of pain erupting across their arm, there's a loud _CLANG!_ and the unmistakable sound of Danse's grunt.

"Begone, foul thing!" the Knight-Captain growls, and with one clean sweep knocks the demon clear across the battlefield.

It's incredibly impressive, but there's still at least three rage demons attempting to set poor Dorian on fire, and Cait's barehanded fists are not doing quite the kind of damage that her (now snapped-in-half ) sword can, so staring in admiration at Danse's ability to physically relocate a demon via application of sword is going to have to wait. Cait seems to have changed her tactics, and instead is now shoving the broken-off tip of her sword into a rage demon's chest using the hilt-end of her sword as a hammer.

"Cait! Watch out!"

She doesn't see the terror demon materialize out of the ground behind her. It sends her sprawling across the ground, and Danse immediately makes a mad dash toward her.

**_CRASH_ **

Danse stumbles backwards at the force of the attack, but he manages to block it from slicing open Cait's back with nothing more than his heavily armored shoulder and arm. Taking advantage of the demon's inattention, Sole fires off three arrows that embed into the demon's back.

It fades out with a scream.

"Guess I was wrong about tha' armor, eh?" Cait laughs as Danse holds out a hand to help her up. "Aw, fuck. Look wha' it did t' ma' sword!"

She holds up what remains of her sword by the hilt; the blade portion still attached has melted into a lump.

"Cait, I used some damn good metal on that!"

"Not ma' fault y' make shitty swords!"

Danse huffs and crosses his arms impatiently.

"We can always get new swords, and gather new metals. This place isn't safe. We need to move on."

"As much as I loathe myself for saying this, it seems that Ser Danse has good advice for us," Dorian agrees. Danse ignores the insult, although his foot taps loudly in Dorian's direction.

"Right, right," Sole says. They're still thinking about Danse's demon-tossing from earlier.

It's a little difficult not to get distracted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Observations about the Inquisitor's newest companion; Danse sends a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danse is like 5'4" in this fic because Vaels loves short Danse and I love short Danse and there's literally nothing better oh my god.
> 
> The headcanon for Fiona's title comes from [grandenchanterfiona](http://grandenchanterfiona.tumblr.com).

"The Knight-Captain seems to be getting along with Cullen quite well," Leliana says, before dropping another stack of parchment and paper onto the war table. The resultant puff of air knocks over a few markers on the map, and she carefully picks up each fallen piece without disturbing the rest.

"They're both templars. Or, a former templar and a current templar," Sole replies without looking up. "Not to mention, a former Knight-Captain and a current Knight-Captain. I would find it strange if they didn't get along."

"They are quite similar."

"I wonder if Cullen can knock a demon clear across a field too."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Sole says dismissively with a wave of the hand, although given the look Leliana is giving them she knows exactly what they're thinking about.

* * *

The thing about Danse is, he's not exactly what one would call "well-liked." He has his thoughts on mages, and qunari, and those thoughts tend toward dislike and occasionally outright distrust. Given that the Inquisitor's inner circle includes several mages, a few mage sympathizers, a qunari, and the Grand Enchanter herself on occasion, it's not exactly the best place for Danse to be.

And yet, Sole can't deny that he's at least making an effort.

He doesn't start fights with the mages or let them start fights with him. He never says anything to the Iron Bull unless it's related to Inquisition matters, and never brings up anything regarding the qunari. He says nothing to Hancock despite his distaste at the man's use of... questionable substances.

"Maybe he realizes that he's outnumbered?" Piper says, still staring down at the parchment in front of her. "I mean. There's a lot of us he doesn't like, but there's a _lot_ of us he doesn't like."

"Brotherhood templars tend to be kind of... vocal about the stuff they don't like," Deacon says, before fixing his half-mask for the third time in the last ten minutes.

"The Knight-Captain strikes me as someone a little bit different," Sole admits. "But he's certainly loyal to his Knight-Commander. And he seems concerned as well. Something tells me the decision to send Danse here wasn't quite as smooth a conversation as he'd made it sound like."

"He said he's known the Knight-Commander ever since Maxson was a boy," Piper adds with a glint in her eye. It's the kind she gets when she's relaying a bit of juicy information. "Can you imagine how protective Danse must be of him?"

"And Knight-Commander Maxson is twenty. That's pretty young for someone with a title like that."

The door opens rather abruptly, and Piper drops her quill.

"Oh, speak of a demon," Deacon laughs. Danse just gives him a look.

"Inquisitor, I hope I'm not interrupting," the templar says. "I have a request. Could you perhaps...?"

"Sure thing, Danse."

Sole hops down from the table they'd been sitting on, and they have the distinct feeling as the door closes behind them that Piper and Deacon are gossiping again.

* * *

"Lady Ironbark," they say as they pass by Fiona on their way to the rookery with Danse in tow. The elven lady nods her head and replies back with "Inquisitor," before resuming her reading. Danse says nothing to her, and she says nothing to him, but it looks as if there's something he very much wants to ask.

"Inquisitor, what... what did you just call the Grand Enchanter?" he asks once they're out of earshot of Fiona.

"Lady Ironbark? Oh, you don't know, do you?"

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Well, I'm not exactly sure how it came about, but there are people in Orlais who refer to her as such. It was originally an insult, I think. Comparing her to the 'savage' Dalish, since they use ironbark in their weapons. But for her, and for a great many elven mages, they use it with pride. The Grand Enchanter, tough as ironbark."

"I see. Taking an insult, and deriving pride from it rather than embarrassment..."

"It's one way to deflect insults."

The steps up to the rookery are steeper than Sole would prefer, and once they arrive at the top, the din of screaming and cawing birds is almost too loud to hear anything else over. Sole clicks their tongue at one of the larger crows, which flies down to land on their wrist.

"Take this to Knight-Commander Maxson. Don't dally, don't pick fights along the way, and don't peck anyone even if you don't like them. Okay?"

The crow regards the Inquisitor with intelligent eyes, as if to say _no promises_ , but it allows for the letter to be tied to its foot before taking of into the skies.

"What was the letter about anyway?" Sole asks. "You could have given it to Leliana."

"She is the _spymaster_ ," Danse says. "Gathering information is her duty. I would much rather that message pass through the hands of someone else."

"She doesn't sift through the mail that people send."

"Precautions, that's all."

"So instead, you ask me to send it, and then follow me up to the rookery to make sure?"

"I... I believed that you would understand, and would take less offense to it than asking anyone else."

He pauses for a moment.

"...and the Commander is not very good with the birds."

"Aw, Danse, I was your second choice?" Sole asks, feigning hurt.

"W-well, I didn't wish to interrupt you, however-"

Sole laughs and pats Danse on the shoulder.

"I'm just kidding. Happy to help, Danse."

Danse blinks at Sole, before nodding.

"Yes, I... thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preston has thoughts, Knight-Commander Maxson makes an appearance, and Sera does something she shouldn't.

It's only been a month, and Danse has already easily placed himself into Sole's everyday life. Between fighting off demons alongside the man and receiving tactical advice at the war table, the Knight-Captain is present in a sizable portion of Sole's day. It doesn't occur to the Inquisitor that this is something worth thinking about until Preston brings it up one day.

"So, Knight-Captain Danse. You trust him, Inquisitor?" Preston asks while Sole notches another arrow in their bow.

"I do." Sole lets the arrow fly, and it shoots cleanly into the middle of the target. "Is there an issue you have with Danse?"

"No more than I have an issue with anyone else."

"Hmm." Another arrow, another bulls-eye. "So was there a reason why you're asking if I trust him?"

Preston watches Sole practicing for a few moments, before picking up his own bow and quiver. Sole lowers their bow to let Preston have a few turns.

"He takes up a lot of your time. I was wondering how you felt about him."

"You take quite a lot of my time too, you know."

"Well, I know how you feel about me, Inquisitor."

Preston chuckles and pulls the bowstring back, and a sudden gust of wind causes the arrow to stray from its path and hit the edge of the target instead. He shakes his head.

"What do you think of him, Preston?" Sole asks, suddenly curious.

"Possibly a little misguided. But I think he's trying to do what's best," Preston replies, readying another arrow.  "I've dealt with the Brotherhood of Steel templars before, and I can say with completely honestly that their Knight-Captain is a good man."

"I see," Sole muses, and watches as this arrow hits the target dead-center.

* * *

The Brotherhood templars are incredibly efficient. They are disciplined, tough, and take their missions very seriously. Sole understands where Danse's demeanor comes from; they can't help but think that anyone in such a group would end up the same way. A string of missions, all successful, has been followed by a missive that Knight-Commander Maxson and a few of his men are passing through Skyhold soon. Sole can't help but wonder how they'll adjust to the atmosphere of Skyhold while they're here.

"Knight-Commander. It's an honor to finally meet you," Sole says, and just like Danse had when they'd first met, Maxson salutes the Inquisitor with all the seriousness that Sole simply doesn't have.

"I apologize for not appearing in person sooner," Maxson replies, and Sole is struck by just how young he sounds. "But we have been rather busy."

"Understandable. You and your men are free to stay as long as you need. You are Inquisition allies, after all."

"We will not be very long, but I thank you for your hospitality."

Danse stands behind the Inquisitor, and despite his stoicism Sole can practically feel the excitement radiating off of the Knight-Captain. It's been at least a month since he's seen his best friend, after all.

"Danse, could you show them around?"

"Of course, Inquisitor."

Sole very quickly excuses themself, and they're barely out of earshot before one of the Brotherhood templars is slapping Danse on the back very loudly.

"Knight-Captain! How have you been?"

"You missed out, ser, Ser Haylen put her foot into an undead's head!"

"The Knight-Commander tore a Gibbering Horror in half with his bare hands!"

Suddenly, Sole's concerns about the over-serious Brotherhood templars seem a little bit unnecessary.

* * *

Sera has her ear pressed against a door, which can only mean two things; one, someone is having a private conversation on the other side of that door, and two, Sera should not be listening to said conversation. She puts a finger up to her lips as the Inquisitor approaches, and they put both hands on their hips and raise an eyebrow.

 _Dansey and the templar boss,_  she mouthes, then points toward the door.

Indeed, Sole can hear the voices of Danse and Knight-Commander Maxson coming from the other side. But Sole is not Sera, and Sole has some better understanding of what a private conversation is supposed to be, so they haul her up by the arm and march her down the hallway away from the door.

"Aww, Quizzy," she giggles. "It was't _that_ serious."

"It's a private conversation, Sera."

"Their fault for trying to have a private conversation when I'm around."

" _Sera_."

"They were talking about you, y'know."

That catches Sole's attention.

"Aha! And now you're curious!" she laughs, pointing an accusing finger at Sole. The Inquisitor glares.

"Sera, _pri-vate con-ver-sation_ ," Sole stresses again. "Danse is probably talking about what he's seen while traveling with us."

"Or, he's talking about you to his boss-man. Oooooooh, what if Knight-Commander Beardy wants you to join his band of templars? A few of them were asking some of the Inquisition soldiers if they'd be interested."

Sole groans. Of all the things they'd expected, having the Brotherhood templars trying to recruit people into their ranks from the Inquisition's own soldiers is rather low on that list.

"Dansey kept saying good things about you, too," Sera continues despite Sole's repeated attempts to get her to stop. "Wouldn't _stop_ saying good things about you. His boss had to tell him not to get 'too attached' or something."

"...what?"

"Oh, but you said private conversation! I'm not telling!"

"Dammit, Sera-!"

And she successfully gives Sole the slip, running off cackling. Sole runs after her, yelling at her to come back, demanding some answers they already know they're not going to get.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole trusts Danse with some important information.

It's a very quiet night, and Danse is spending it very much alone.

He can't sleep. Arthur had left in the morning with the Brotherhood templars with him, clapping Danse on the shoulder and wishing him luck with the Inquisition. A month away from each other had been difficult, given that they'd spent so much time together before this separation. Having to watch his Knight-Commander go had been...

Painful, if he's truthful. He already misses his best friend.

So instead of attempting to sleep, he leans against the ramparts of Skyhold, staring out into the snowy mountains surrounding. It almost seems like a miracle that the stronghold can stand on this precarious foundation, but he's heard that there's strong magic here. Something that protects Skyhold, keeping snow off of the grounds and the crumbling walls from collapsing.

Magic. Is it imbued in the walls of Skyhold? Was it a sigil placed into the ground? Is something alive within the stone and dirt? Danse shudders at the thought of something within Skyhold. He thinks of a dragon, or darkspawn. Maybe even a spirit or demon-

He's just frightening himself over nothing at this point.

"Old elvhen magic," he says to himself, and leaves that train of thought there.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulls his attention back to reality. He expects to see Inquisition soldiers, but instead of an armored night watchman he sees a figure clad in a simple tunic and breeches. Not even shoes on their feet.

"...Inquisitor?" Danse asks, once the figure is close enough for him to see their face.

"Good evening, Danse," Sole answers with a sleepy smile. "It's rather late."

"I can't sleep."

"Missing your friends?"

"Yes. And you?"

"The mark won't let me sleep."

Sole slides off the glove on their hand, and Danse realizes that it seems to be glowing brighter than usual. The creeping lines leave a shattered patchwork of skin up the Inquisitor's forearm, sickly green glowing from each split.

"Is... is it painful?" he asks, almost horrified at the way it's spread. Sole nods.

"Some days aren't so bad. Others are... bad."

It pulses in intensity for a moment, and Danse sees the Inquisitor's fingers wrapped around their wrist tighten in response. They're trying not to show that they're in pain.

"Inquisitor, is there anything I can do to help?" he asks, but he knows there likely isn't. Sole shakes their head and grits their teeth.

"No. I've asked Solas, I've even asked Dagna. Neither of them have any idea."

The mark pulses again, and Sole leans heavily against Danse's shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry... I just... I just need to-"

Danse isn't having any of it. He wraps both arms around the Inquisitor, holding them to keep them from slipping from his shoulder, and slowly lowers the two of them onto the flagstones.

"No apologizing," he says once Sole is sitting down with their back against the ramparts. "You're in pain, Inquisitor."

Sole nods weakly, and slowly uncurls their fingers from around their wrist to rest it flat on the ground. Another pulse of green, and this time they end up grabbing Danse's arm. Sole's grip is tight, and it's a bit painful, but Danse doesn't pry the fingers off of him. He places his hand on top of shaking knuckles, waiting patiently until the pain abates.

"S-sorry," Sole pants, once the glowing has died down somewhat. They hastily remove their grip from Danse's arm.

"Inquisitor, you don't need to apologize," Danse repeats. "If there's anything I can do to help, I will do it for you."

Both of them are silent. Sole looks as though they're considering something.

"Danse... can I tell you something?"

"Anything, Inquisitor."

Sole takes a deep breath, and Danse is alarmed to see tears shining at the corners of their eyes.

"I'm scared. I'm really, fucking scared," they begin, rubbing at their eyes. "This mark... it's grown. I don't know what happens if it keeps growing. It's killing my arm. It's probably killing me. My fingers are getting numb, sometimes to the point that I can't feel anything at all. And those... spikes, or whatever that was just now, it hurts. It hurts so much, and I have no idea what's going on, and I feel like I'm dying with every single tear I close."

They sniffle, and look away from Danse.

"You can't tell anyone."

"What?"

"You can't tell anyone what I said."

"Inquisitor, if you're dying-"

"Danse, I'm serious. I can't let them know what this is doing to me. I need to be strong, at least in their eyes."

"Hiding the fact that you're dying is not being strong!"

"They can't know that their one hope for stopping all of this is dying."

Sole stares at Danse sternly. They're completely serious.

"Danse, you have to promise me. You can't tell anyone."

He has half a mind to refuse, to go straight to Cassandra and Leliana and spell it out very clearly for them that the Inquisitor is dying. But Sole stares at him, as if pinning him in place with just their eyes.

"I... I promise, Inquisitor."

"Thank you."

Sole rests their head on Danse's shoulder again, too tired to be embarrassed. Danse makes no move to push them away, and instead places his hand on top of Sole's.

"Perhaps falling asleep on the ramparts of Skyhold is not the best idea," he says quietly after a moment. Sole chuckles.

"That's true."

The two of them stand, Sole a bit shakily, and Danse quickly grabs them by the waist to steady them.

"Will you be okay?" he asked, concerned. Sole nods, but before he can let go, they wrap an arm around his neck and pull him in for a hug.

"Thank you, Danse," Sole says against Danse's shoulder, and Danse swallows against the fluttering in his chest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse explains his armor; a few companions needle Danse about the Inquisitor.

"...partial enchantment on the armor, actually, specific pieces that would be most effective..."

Sole turns their head at the sound of Danse's voice. He seems to be talking to someone, but Sole has never heard Danse like this before. Carefully making their way through the garden and hopping over the stone fence, Sole spies three figures by Cassandra's usual spot. One of the dummies has been covered in what looks like Danse's heavy armor.

"...heavier than most heavy armor. Although the size is due to some areas having extra padding, or simple open space."

It seems that Danse is enthusiastically explaining his rather unique armor to the Seeker and the Commander. Sole listens from a distance, curiously.

"I imagine lowered movement is an issue," Cullen says, placing his hand on the chestpiece. "And increased noise."

"It is better suited for direct assault," Danse replies. "The loss in agility is less of a concern with the increased defense. And there are pieces within the armor, especially limb areas, with enchantments..."

The wind is making it too difficult to hear without getting closer, although Sole doesn't want to interrupt them. They're completely absorbed in trying to listen, that they don't hear the footsteps approaching.

"Your Worship, Knight-Captain Danse wouldn't mind your company."

Sole nearly jumps ten feet into the air in alarm.

"Maker's breath- _Krem!_ Don't _do_ that!" Sole chides, and the mercenary just grins at him.

"And you shouldn't be sneaking around listening to conversations," Krem replies, leaning against his warhammer. It seems that Dalish is in tow as well, the elf ~~mage~~ archer waving at Sole cheerfully.

"Your Worship, is there a reason why you don't speak to him?" she asks curiously. "He does seem rather fond of you."

"Even Bull thinks so," Krem adds. "You don't know?"

"I don't think it's fair to compare a _Ben-Hassrath's_ observation skills to mine."

"Well, that issue aside, I think you should talk to him, Your Worship. Even if he is a templar. As long as he stays away from me and my... bow."

"Right," Sole says, eyeing the "bow" in question strapped to Dalish's back. The orb at the top glints, betraying the weapon's true nature, although the rest of the weapon itself already makes it incredibly obvious that Dalish is not really an archer.

"If you ask, he'll give you a good lecture on his armor," Krem laughs. "He talked for three hours. It was a fascinating three hours and I learned quite a lot, but still."

"If only Rocky knew how to enchant instead of explode things," Dalish sighs. "That armor would be impressive on you, Krem."

Sole isn't paying attention to the conversation anymore; Cullen is getting into a heated debate with Cassandra about something or another regarding the armor, with Danse listening intently to both of them.

"I'll see you two later," Sole says half-dismissively, and crosses the courtyard as Cassandra and Cullen walk away still talking. Danse has one of the arm guards in hand, wiping off some dirt with a rag as Sole approaches.

"Knight-Captain," Sole says.

"Inquisitor," Danse replies. They're in public; they have appearances to keep up. Sole can practically hear Dalish's sigh of disappointment.

"Are you the reason for the Commander and the Seeker's, erm... debating?"

"They have differing ideas on the exact usefulness of Brotherhood armor."

"Hmm."

Sole takes a closer look at the armor set out on the dummy. The templar emblem of the fiery sword is on the front, with the inclusion of three cog-shaped symbols floating above the sword.

"A special touch to show your allegiance to the Brotherhood of Steel?" Sole asks.

"We may be templars, but we are also Brotherhood," Danse explains. "Our armor reflects that."

"Exactly what sets you apart from other templars, anyway?"

"We simply removed ourselves from the rest of the Order. The Order was not moving in a direction that would be for the best, and so various templars left their Circles. Knight-Commander Maxson gathered them together. Most of us hail from several Marcher Circles, with a few from Ferelden."

"So... none of you really belong to a Circle, then?"

"No. At least not anymore. The Brotherhood is separate from any Circle of Magi. We go where we can do the most good, and currently that place is in an alliance with the Inquisition."

"Why is he in charge, though? Didn't you say that he was only twenty years old?"

Danse sighs at that.

"Knight-Commander Maxson was the one who banded us all together. He is young, but he is capable. Even if I worry for him, I know that he is able to lead."

"Somehow I don't think you're as unconcerned as you make it sound like."

"Perhaps I have the same concerns that you do to have a Knight-Commander so young."

"Concerns _about_ him, or concerns _for_ him?"

"For him. I have complete faith in him as a leader, but..."

Danse stops trying to rub the dirt off of his armor for a moment, sighing again.

"I will be glad when this is all over," he says simply, and Sole lets him leave it at that.

"So... about your armor..." Sole asks, tapping the shoulder plate with their knuckles.

"Curious?"

"A little birdie mercenary hefting a giant warhammer told me I could get a lecture on it. Mind if I get a rundown on what's up with it?"

Danse smiles.

* * *

Just as Krem had said, Danse talks for almost three hours. Sole listens to every single word with rapt interest.

* * *

"So, have ye' gathered up enough nerve ta' ask Quizzy?" Cait asks with a grin, clapping Danse on the shoulder.

Danse nearly spits out his ale.

Piper helpfully smacks him on the back a few times as he coughs, but she's grinning as well. Danse groans, pushing his mug away from him.

"Of all the questions to ask- do you not have something else better to do, Cait?"

"I could go prankin' th' Commander again with Sera."

"Something less destructive?"

"Bah."

"But really though, Danse, you don't think nobody's noticed?" Piper asks, and she has a look about her that she gets when she's overheard some good gossip. Bards, and their Maker-damn secret-hoarding.

"It would be difficult not to with you people hounding me constantly," Danse grumbles.

"Don't go grouping me up with the shems, Danse," Hancock says with an exhale from his pipe. "No offense to you two lovely ladies."

Both of them tip their heads in understanding at the elf.

"The Inquisitor is a very fascinating person!" Curie adds. "I believe you two would make an excellent couple, Ser Danse!"

"Heh, Orlesians love a good love story, huh?"

"It is not because I am Orlesian, Monsieur Hancock!"

"So, we all agree though that the Inquisitor and the Knight-Captain would make for a great-"

" _Piper_ ," Danse groans. "Please."

Preston mercifully says nothing on the matter, simply giving Danse a sympathetic look as he finishes his drink. Deacon has made himself scarce, slipping off to Maker knows where, although Danse has a sneaking suspicion that the rogue isn't too far away.

"So, was the point of this... meeting to needle me about the Inquisitor, or was there a better reason?"

"Actually, we were hoping we could get Ex drunk too," Piper admits. "But he's too good for that, or something. Stupid mage."

"Cait over here wanted to get Strong drunk, but we all know how that would end up," Hancock says, as if that somehow that makes Piper's admission less ridiculous.

"Please do not get Strong drunk under any circumstances whatsoever."

"Fine, Knight-Captain Killjoy," Cait says, sticking her tongue out at Danse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ex" is referring to X6-88; I had no better ideas about what to name him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacCready is helpful, and Dogmeat tries to help, too. Somewhat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get the feeling that this chapter went in a weird direction. The perils of writing fic at 4 am, I guess.

"I told them not to say anything, but I don't think they listened. Sorry."

MacCready looks toward the Herald's Rest, petting Dogmeat's head absent-mindedly as he sits down next to Sole. The mabari, who has his snout resting on Sole's leg, thumps his tail on the ground happily.

"It's okay. At least he'll know, since I'm too much of a coward to say anything."

"It's not cowardly to be nervous," he shoots back, maybe a bit too quickly. "I wish they hadn't done it, those Maker-damn- er, dang-"

"Mac. It's okay."

The mercenary quiets, although the frown on his face remains.

"So... Knight-Captain Danse. You really serious about him?"

"I... I guess so. I don't know. It feels like when I first met... well. You know what I mean."

"Yeah. No need to bring that up and upset yourself over it."

Dogmeat nudges Sole's elbow, and Sole obliges with more scratching behind the mabari's ears.

"Do you think he thinks of me anywhere near how I think of him?" Sole asks.

"I dunno. Varric keeps saying that he's got eyes for you, but this is Varric we're talking about. I wouldn't know who to ask for a serious, helpful answer, to be honest."

"Maybe Viv?"

"Sole, do you really expect me to go ask her?"

"I told you already, she's nice if you're nice."

"And if she knew, she'd probably have already told you."

"That's a... good point, actually."

"See? I say smart shi- uh, smart stuff sometimes."

The silence between them stretches for longer this time. Dogmeat pants happily and slips away, possibly to find someone else to get attention from. MacCready seems lost in thought. Sole wonders what he's thinking about; he's been rather thoughtful about this whole... situation, and Sole is glad for it. Not that the others wouldn't be legitimately helpful, if Sole had told them, but MacCready almost seems driven to make things work. It's not about him, and yet...

"You're really intense about this, Mac."

He shakes his head.

"I know."

Sole sees the wedding ring on MacCready's finger glint in the moonlight.

"I just want my friend to be happy."

He rubs the knuckle of his ring finger with his thumb.

"Yeah. Thanks," Sole replies, but as they watch the 22-year-old widower next to them, it occurs to Sole that MacCready might have some very strong, underlying reasons for wanting to help.

* * *

"Hey boy, who's a good boy? You are! Yes you are! Good boy, good boy Dogmeat-"

"I believe Piper may be drunk," Deacon says in a deadpan, staring at the bard as she nearly falls out of her chair in the process of trying to pet Dogmeat. Dogmeat leaves big, slobbery puppy kisses all over Piper's face, before making his way to Danse and nudging the templar's thigh.

"Hmm?" Danse looks down, and Dogmeat stares at him intently. "Yes, Dogmeat?"

"Arf!"

"I'm afraid I don't speak mabari."

Dogmeat's eyes narrow, and he barks again. 

"Someone do something about that dog!" Cabot yells from the bar. "I already got enough yelling drunks in here, I don't need a yelling dog too!"

"Danse, I think he wants something from you?" Preston says curiously. "Boy, what's gotten into you?"

Another nudge against his leg has Danse standing up with a bit of a grumble.

"Don't know why it has to be me..." he mutters under his breath, but nonetheless follows Dogmeat as he trots out the door. The night air is brisk, sobering him up just a little, and Danse has to practically run to keep up with the mabari once they're outside.

"Dogmeat, really, what is this about?"

Danse nearly trips over the dog when he stops. Dogmeat turns his head and snaps his mouth, as if telling the templar to keep quiet.

"What-"

And from around the corner, Danse can hear voices; one is unmistakably MacCready's.

"I dunno. I don't think I'm really ready to move on from Lucy yet. But I'm sure one day I will. Maybe you just need more time too."

"Maybe. I don't know.

The second voice, Danse realizes, is Sole's.

"It's really shaky. I know. Even if you do feel really strongly about this, it might be better for you not to do anything yet."

"If it's too soon though, why would I feel like this?"

"Who knows? Sometimes things just work that way."

This is not a conversation Danse should be listening to. He silently curses Dogmeat for leading him here, into listening to a conversation clearly not meant for his ears. Danse attempts to turn to leave, and Dogmeat reacts by biting onto the hem of his pant leg.

"All I know is that I'm getting over my last love, and falling straight into another one, and it's confusing."

"I'm sorry."

"Maybe I'm okay. I've had some time to grieve. Some time to think. This isn't... some sort of attempt at filling up what's missing."

"Yeah. Don't try to replace people with different people. It never works."

Danse is not amused. He shakes his leg, trying to get Dogmeat off of him. The mabari holds on, completely aware of the fact that as soon as he's let go Danse is going to bolt.

"He isn't Nate or Nora. He really, really isn't."

The two voices fall silent, and Danse is frozen in place. From what he'd heard, he's able to piece together that the Inquisitor was talking about falling in love. Danse already knows about the Inquisitor losing two people very close to them at the Conclave explosion, but he hadn't actually known that Sole had been in love with those two people.

And now, Sole is apparently falling in love with one of their friends. Who, though?

"Argh. I don't know. Maybe I'm just really fond of him," Sole says, breaking the silence. "Just, enjoying having him as a friend."

"You have a point of comparison there, then. You get all fluttery in the chest from talking to me?"

" _Mac_."

"It's a legitimate question!"

"Okay, no, but you're a different kind of friend."

"You make it sound like we're screwing around-"

MacCready laughs, and Danse hears the sound of a muffled blow and a yelp.

"Mac! Seriously!"

"That's exactly what it sounded like!"

"Maker's breath! I meant that you're like a brother to me!"

"Okay, _good_ , I'm glad we're on the same page about _that_ then-"

A frustrated grumble from Sole, and chuckling from MacCready.

"So. You ever gonna tell him? Now, or later?"

"I might. I'll see how things go from here. It might change. It would be cruel to tell him now, and have him end up feeling the same way, and then having my thoughts change."

"That's.... that's true."

Danse has had enough of listening in on conversations he shouldn't be through entrapment via a very stubborn mabari. He pulls himself away from the wall, ready to drag Dogmeat back to the tavern attached to his leg if he has to, but Dogmeat surprisingly lets him go.

The others seem to think that the Inquisitor has eyes for him, but Danse can't imagine why anyone would ever see him in such a way. But at least they're right, in the sense that Sole seems to have feelings for someone. The question though, is who? Clearly not MacCready, considering the mention of seeing him as a brother, and the fact that Sole is having the discussion with the mercenary. Not any of their female acquaintances, as Sole had described the person as a "he." But that leaves an incredibly large number of possibilities.

Not that Danse should be mulling over this sort of thing in the first place.

He shakes his head, cursing Dogmeat one last time under his breath, walking back to the tavern for another drink. Exactly what had been the point of all of that, anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE Sole is polyamorous eyooooooooo


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke challenges the Inquisitor to a friendly spar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the appearance of Courier!Hawke, because no good crossover fic is complete without the lovable disaster children protagonists from both franchises. And I named em Courier Hawke because again I am too lazy to give em a name other than eir title. Courier uses ey/em/eir pronouns to avoid the confusion that's bound to come from two people using singular they.

"I promise I won't play dirty," Hawke says with a grin, and Sole raises an eyebrow at that.

"I was under the impression that not playing dirty was an expectation," they say, and Hawke laughs.

"I thought I would make myself clear, is all," the Champion explains. "I have a reputation, after all."

Indeed, Courier Hawke does indeed have a reputation. "Incompetent" and "ridiculous" are two words used to describe Hawke sometimes, but given the amount that Hawke has accomplished, Sole has some serious doubts about whether they're actually true. One doesn't become Champion of a Marcher city by being incompetent, and given the stories surrounding exactly how Hawke came to be the Champion, Hawke seems to have done quite a bit to earn that title. Killing an Arishok and single-handedly driving out the qunari from Kirkwall in doing so? Certainly Champion material right there.

Exactly why ey challenged Sole to a spar is beyond the Inquisitor's understanding, though. Hawke hasn't exactly been the most social person since arriving. Showing up out of the blue because Varric had asked, straight into the heart of the Inquisition despite the presence of the Chantry, apparently unconcerned with eir own safety for the sake of helping. Ey had spoken to Sole when Varric had introduced them, and spent a great deal of time with Varric and nobody else after that.

"Don't get too distracted by my roguish good looks, Inquisitor," ey teases, twirling the practice blades in eir hands experimentally. Sole rolls their eyes.

"Not going to take off that hat?" Sole asks, readying into an offensive stance. The hat in question is big-brimmed, and easily can be knocked off in a fight.

"Nope," Courier replies, pulling the brim down further so that it hides eir eyes. The grin Sole gets is shit-eating, a very openly defiant challenge.

Sole decides to start the fight by attempting to swipe the hat off of eir head.

* * *

There's a rather large crowd gathered around the sparring field, and Danse can't help but be curious.

"Is Cassandra taking on a challenger?" Cullen muses out loud, and they turn to each other.

"Only one way to find out."

They manage to squeeze to the front, a few soldiers letting them through, and Cullen groans when they finally get a look at who is fighting.

"CULLEN! HEY!" Hawke yells, waving wildly with dagger in hand, completely ignoring the fight momentarily. Sole takes advantage of the distraction, and Courier yelps and grabs at eir hat before ducking down to avoid a swing.

"Oh no," Cullen mutters, and covers his face with a hand. Danse watches the fight in amusement, noting the way Hawke's technique is chaotic, random, and entirely unpredictable. In comparison, Sole's is controlled and disciplined. Not that one seems to be superior over the other, as Sole is unable to get a good handle on some of Hawke's movements, and Hawke's blows don't connect the way they should.

"Hey Inquisitor, how's your hand-to-hand?" Hawke asks suddenly.

"Is this not hand-to-hand?"

"I mean _fists_ , Inquisitor."

Sole gives Hawke an incredulous look. Ey momentarily breaks from the defensive stance ey had fallen into, using the point of one dagger to push up the brim of eir hat to show eir face.

"Let me clarify; how well do you do in a fist fight?"

There's a murmur that goes through the crowd.

"Is this your way of admitting that you're losing?"

"No, I'm just bored."

 _Bored_. Hawke is apparently bored by a sparring match with the Inquisitor. But the last few minutes have been a repetitive cycle of the same, and Sole has to admit that they're curious.

"Hoping to catch a noble brat out of their element, then?"

"I was a noble too, Inquisitor."

"You hardly count as nobility, Hawke."

Hawke apparently takes that as a compliment, given the proud grin.

"So? We continue this until we concede to a draw, or do we try something new?"

Sole considers for a moment. They look to the side, catching sight of Danse and Cullen, before turning back to Courier.

"No weapons, no dirty fighting. That includes biting, kidney hits, and groin kicks," Sole says sternly, and the grin on Courier's face grows at the mention of biting.

"Alright then!"

Courier drops both of eir knives and kicks them away off to the side. Sole sighs at the cavalier attitude, and walks over to the fence rather than drop their knives.

"Hold these for me, will you?" they ask Danse, handing over the practice knives to the templar. Danse nods and takes them.

"Good luck, Inquisitor," he says with a grin.

"I'm sure I'll win," Sole replies, tipping their head.

"Come on!" Hawke yells impatiently. "There's time for flirting later-"

Ey yelps and has to take several hasty steps back when Sole immediately turns and barrels toward em at full speed.

* * *

The thing about Hawke is that Sole had completely underestimated exactly how fast ey can move.

It's not just practice; part of this is innate ability, and ey is a zippy person. Sole wonders if Hawke had been holding back in their sparring match, or if it was just the need to adapt to using weapons. Whatever the reason, Courier currently has Sole pinned to the ground with one arm behind their back and the other caught in Courier's free hand.

"I think I win," ey laughs, but Sole shakes their head and kicks their foot back; it catches against Hawke's leg, and with eir weight resting on the foot ey is knocked off balance enough for Sole to free themself.

"You think so?" Sole asks with a grin while Hawke curses and scrambles to eir feet.

Somehow this fight has gone on for even longer than the sparring match with weapons, and yet the crowd doesn't seem to be ready to leave just yet.

"Okay, okay. So, how long have we been at it?" Courier asks.

"I've lost track of time."

"Huh. Maybe it's time to call it a draw, then?"

"Now you're ready to concede?"

"Look, I don't know about you, Inquisitor, but I had _fun_."

Courier falls out of stance, shrugging at Sole. There's a reddening mark on Courier's forehead, likely to turn into a bruise later, but the Champion looks surprisingly happy.

What a strange person.

"I suppose that's fair," Sole replies, and lowers both fists. "You should go see the healers, they'll fix that bruise before it even shows up."

"I think I might let it show. A bit of a souvenir from that time I challenge the Inquisitor to a fight, then got the shit beat out of me."

That makes even Sole laugh. Courier closes the distance between them to give Sole a firm handshake.

"Good fighting with you, Inquisitor," ey says. "Can't wait to see you actually in a fight."

"Likewise, Champion."

Hawke walks to the fence, hopping it easily as the crowd around em parts to let em through. Sole is left alone in the small training arena, and Danse's voice snaps their attention away from Hawke.

"I'm perfectly fine," Sole starts as they approach Danse, not giving him a chance to begin his chiding.

"You were in a fist fight with the Champion of Kirkwall," Danse huffs. "Please, at least have the healers look at your bruises?"

He brushes a bit of hair from Sole's face, frowning at the scrape that is revealed.

"...among other injuries."

"Danse, I'm okay. Seriously, it was a friendly spar."

"Hawke has a bruise the size of your fist on-"

"Okay, so maybe we got a _little_ intense for a bit."

"And there is dirt all over you."

"It's not my fault Hawke got me on the ground."

Danse stares at Sole.

"Okay, okay, okay, I'll have the healers take a look," Sole finally relents. "Say, where did Cullen go?"

"He left before you two finished. He said something about leaving before Hawke had a chance to catch him," Danse says, looking around. "I imagine he returned to his office."

"Huh. So, were you impressed?"

"What?"

"With the fight. I held my own against the Champion of Kirkwall, slayer of the Arishok," Sole replies with a grin. "And then made the Champion call a draw. Did I impress you?"

The Inquisitor is a truly incredible person, but this is not exactly a moment that deserves awe. And yet, as he ducks his head and chuckles, Danse can't help but feel amazement at Sole as they stand in front of him covered in dirt and scrapes.

"Yes you did, Inquisitor."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something goes very, very wrong.

Despite all of the chaos erupting across Thedas, Skyhold is relatively calm. Perhaps being situated in the middle of the Frostback Mountains is enough to distance it from everything, but for Sole it makes them antsy. Like a forest in dead silence, something seems to be very, very off.

"Maybe Corypheus will storm Skyhold and kill all of us at once," they say, staring up at the ceiling. Cassandra gives Sole a weary look.

"You are overreacting, Inquisitor."

"You don't think it's been too quiet lately?"

She pauses in her writing, the scratching of her quill going silent.

"It has been... oddly calm, yes. But there are lulls in fighting. Eventually it will return to the pace which we are accustomed to."

"I don't like it, Cass. It rubs me the wrong way."

Cassandra turns to Sole, a look of concern on her face that's replaced by something different that Sole can't quite place.

"Inquisitor... I understand that you are worried. It is unusual, this... peace, almost."

Sole sits up and throws both legs over the side of the bed, leaning forward to rest their elbows on their knees.

"I'm just saying, stay on your guard."

"I will, Inquisitor."

* * *

A letter arrives, sent from the Brotherhood templars; it seems that a demon is plaguing the area nearby their stronghold, with the possibility of an abomination running undetected. Knight-Commander Maxson requests Danse's help in the matter, as someone he can trust and he knows is safe from the demon's influence.

"I could send Solas, or Curie, or even Ex and make this process go by a lot faster," Sole grumbles as Danse reads the letter.

"Knight-Commander Maxson needs someone he can trust."

"Is it really that hard for him to trust a mage?"

"Yes," Danse replies, lips drawn in a thin line. "And I would feel better too, to understand what's going on myself."

The letter is passed back to Sole, who lays it out on the table and sighs. They don't want to send Danse off. It almost sounds paranoid, but with the recent lull in activity, Sole can't shake the feeling of something deeply unpleasant awaiting them at the horizon. Not to mention that sending Danse is a waste of time, when there are other alternatives that would work so much more efficiently.

"I can guarantee you that sending even one mage will clean this mess up faster than if I sent you," Sole begins, trying to keep their voice without the frustration mounting in their thoughts. "I know how you feel about that, and I know how Maxson feels about that, but you have to understand, sending you isn't the best, especially if I could use you somewhere else where you'll actually do better."

"The Knight-Commander isn't going to accept anyone other than me. I understand, Inquisitor, but Maxson's decision is final."

"I'm shocked any work gets down with a mindset like that."

"Knight-Commander Maxson is _careful_. Especially given that the current issue involves an abomination, I believe it would be best to follow-"

"Is it actually careful to ignore every single other option? That's just stubbornness-"

"You may have faith in your mage companions, Inquisitor, but this is a matter of-"

" _Alright!_ " Sole grinds out. "If that's what you think, then go. Fix this... abomination issue. Nevermind the fact that this could be over in half the time if Maxson would let just _one_ mage in to figure it out..."

Danse stares at Sole, and they can tell that he's on the brink of lecturing Sole about how Maxson knows what he's doing, or that this is the way that the Brotherhood does things, or something else that's bound to explode into a fight. A fight would be a change to this dullness. At least it would take Sole's mind off of the burning paranoia that keeps prodding at them. The silence between them is uncomfortable, thick with tension and frustration.

"...very well," the templar finally answers. Sole doesn't look up to meet his eyes. "I'll return as soon as I'm able."

"Dismissed," Sole replies, and the sudden use of authoritative language seems to shock Danse a bit. But he salutes Sole with an arm across his chest and a tilt of his head nonetheless. Danse is almost out the door when Sole finally looks up.

"Danse!"

He turns his head over his shoulder, surprised.

"Be safe," Sole says simply, and Danse nods his head a bit stiffly before walking out.

* * *

The lull in activity drops into complete monotony soon after Danse leaves. Sole ventures out into the Hinterlands to close rifts and deal with lingering Venatori, and makes every effort to avoid going to Crestwood. It's incredibly childish, probably, but the idea of possibly running into the Brotherhood, or, Maker forbid, Danse, is enough to keep them away.

"My dear, are you quite alright?" Vivienne asks. They've taken a temporary rest at one of the many Inquisition camps set up. "You seem to have something on your mind."

"It's nothing, Viv," Sole says in an attempt to verbally shrug her off, but Vivienne is not so easily deterred.

"Inquisitor, you have been jumpy for quite a while now. And ever since Knight-Captain Danse took his leave, it seems to have gotten worse. Is something the matter, Sole?"

It's the usage of their name that has them finally sighing in defeat. Vivienne is too attentive for Sole to keep it a secret from her.

"It seems too quiet lately, and I feel like something bad is going to happen. And Danse didn't leave on exactly the best terms," Sole admits. "I was frustrated with the Knight-Commander's complete refusal to accept any help other than Danse, when Danse wasn't the best person to send. He backed up his Knight-Commander, I backed up my argument."

"Perhaps arguing with him on the subject was unwise."

"I know."

Sole kicks at a rock, watching as it rolls down the sloped ground and out of sight.

"I'll think of something when he gets back," they say. "I dunno if apologizing is really the right way to put it, but... Yeah. And maybe Cassandra's right. It's just slow right now. We'll get back to hunting down Corypheus soon enough."

"Certainly," Vivienne agrees. "Perhaps it is best to take advantage of this quiet in the time being?"

"Viv, you know that if it's too quiet, I'm going to make it _not_ quiet."

"Yes, unfortunately, I do..."

* * *

When Sole returns to Skyhold, there's a distressingly large number of matters to attend to. Scout reports, diplomatic requests, military movement, all of it stacks up and threatens to collapse onto the poor Inquisitor. And the fragile balance of it nearly breaks down, as a harried Brotherhood templar arrives at Skyhold with a message for Sole.

"Inquisitor," she says, hastily saluting Sole before handing over a neatly folded envelope. "This is for you, Your Worship, from Knight-Commander Maxson. Your eyes only. And... and I don't wish to be presumptous, but I must speak with you on the matter of that letter once you finish reading it."

The templar looks incredibly stressed. Sole unfolds the paper, eyes scanning across the words. They stop, brows furrowing in confusion, reading it over again. And then one more time for good measure.

Once Sole is convinced that they aren't hallucinating, they look up from the paper. The templar watches them worriedly, waiting for a response.

"This is from Knight-Commander Maxson."

"Yes, Your Worship."

"He expects me to help him."

"Y-yes, Your Worship."

Sole grips the paper, the edges crumbling in their grasp, silent for a very long time.

"I knew it," they snarl, finally breaking the silence. Rising from the throne, and ignoring Josephine and the templar's alarmed calls to return, Sole makes a beeline for the war room.

* * *

The doors slam open, Sole's right hand bleeding from the force of punching the hardwood with all of their strength. Behind them, Josephine, the templar messenger, and several companions who had seen Sole on their way to the war room immediately trail after Sole. Leliana, Cullen, and Cassandra look up in alarm at the sudden noise.

Sole keeps a steeled expression, walking straight to the table and slamming the letter down on the map. They ignore the markers that go tumbling, ignore the blood dripping down their knuckles and onto the paper, ignore everyone's looks of alarm and questions.

"I knew something wasn't right," Sole says, ashen-faced, shaking fingers clenching around the paper so tightly that it rips.

"Your Worship, please," the Brotherhood templar begs them again. "I need to explain, you need to understand-"

"I knew I shouldn't have sent him," Sole grits out, the letter now a balled-up mess of torn paper and blood. "I fucking knew this would happen. I knew it, I knew it, everything was too Maker-damned _CALM_ -"

The balled-up letter goes flying, thrown in a random direction. Sole slams both fists down onto the table and smears blood across the wood, unconcerned with their injury. Hot tears well up at the corners of their eyes, dripping onto the table as Sole hangs their head and fumes in silent, agonizing fury and terror.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ser Haylen has a lot to say to Sole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the author has a lot to say too, because this chapter kind of got away from me and got longer than it should have. Whoops.

Nobody is quite brave enough to approach Sole at first. They all let Sole stand there, raging in silence, until Piper slowly makes her way to Sole's side.

"Blue? What happened?" she asks quietly, placing a hand on Sole's shoulder. She doesn't flinch when Sole head jerks up to look at her, eyes red and still burning with anger.

"Danse," they answer curtly, before pushing themself up off of the table and turning around to lean their back against it heavily. Sole slides down into a sitting position on the floor, head resting against the table, while Leliana moves to retrieve the tattered paper.

"Don't bother trying to figure out what's written on it," Sole mutters. "It doesn't matter. Danse is in trouble."

"Y-your Worship... may I?"

The Brotherhood templar who had brought the message seems to have found her voice; all eyes fall on her at once.

"Go on," Sole says, waving his hand to motion her to continue.

"That letter... I don't believe that what it says is true. Danse isn't- I should start from the beginning."

She sighs and rubs her face with one hand.

"I am Ser Haylen, of the Brotherhood of Steel templars. Knight-Captain Danse was the one who sponsored me into the Brotherhood. He's a good man, and I've known him the best out of everyone in the Brotherhood. What happened is confusing, and I'm afraid that the Knight-Commander may have jumped to conclusions."

"That's one damn conclusion to jump to," Sole scoffs.

"It isn't without reason. But I don't think he's right," Haylen continues. "The Knight-Captain joined us at the stronghold. Knight-Commander Maxson briefed him on what had occurred, and on the third day after his arrival we believed that we had caught the abomination hiding in our ranks. Under pressure, it revealed itself and fled. The Knight-Commander, the Knight-Captain, myself, and seven other templars gave chase. We cornered it in a cave, and it attempted to attack us. The Knight-Commander use the Litany of Adralla on it, knowing it was an abomination; that would at least weaken it. And... and then..."

Haylen pauses, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"When the Knight-Commander used it, something strange happened. The abomination lashed out at the walls of the cave, likely out of desperation. But at that same moment, Knight-Captain Danse, he... it was as if he'd been hit. He reacted as if something was causing him great pain, and the abomination... it... it spoke to him. It called him Valor, and acted as if he was a spirit. And then it said something strange. 'Are you having fun playing a templar, Valor? Are you having as much fun as I am?'"

Sole stares at Haylen, their blood running cold at hearing the abomination's words being recalled.

"The abomination, it... it called Danse a spirit. It said he wasn't really human. That a spirit of Valor was holding onto the dead body of the Knight-Captain. And the ceiling came down after that the abomination lashed out again, and it split me and the Knight-Captain off from the rest of the group. It killed the abomination, and it knocked almost everyone out cold. I told the Knight-Captain to run for it, and he ran into the caves. The Knight-Commander made us follow, but... there was no sign of him. I spotted a hole in the ceiling of the cave, though, deeper in, and it would have been difficult to climb out, but it would have been possible. He ran, and he's hiding somewhere, but... Maker, I have no idea where he could have gone."

Haylen is shaking all over; Josephine puts a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

"Is there anywhere in that vicinity with hiding spots?" Sole asks quietly.

"Not that I can think of, Your Worship."

"But he's hiding out there, isn't he?"

"Yes, Your Worship. I don't think he would have left."

"I see."

Sole falls silent again, before wearily motioning to Cullen.

"Call everyone in," Sole says, closing their eyes. "I need to talk them; this is going to affect everyone."

* * *

The war room is large, but with the Inquisitor's inner circle all attempting to crowd around the war table, space suddenly becomes a significant issue. Sole is too tired to care; they pretend not to see Codsworth being held up by Iron Bull in the back.

"I'm going to begin by saying that my decision on this is final," Sole says. "And as members of the Inquisition, I expect you to uphold your orders."

A murmur of assent goes through the group.

"I've received a message from Knight-Commander Maxson with allegations that Knight-Captain Danse is an abomination. Whether or not this is true is questionable, but regardless, I have every intent to find him and return him to Skyhold. If he isn't, then the matter is settled. If he is... then we have a more complicated situation on our hands."

The mention of 'abomination' sends shudders through the group. Curie gasps from somewhere in the back.

"All of you have spent the last few months in Danse's company. You've talked to him. Some of you have argued with him. But not once has he shown any intent to harm any of us. Disagreements and prejudices aside, he has guarded all of you in battle the same way he has guarded anyone else. I expect you then, in turn, to do the same for him."

It's getting harder to talk. Sole is silent for a few moments, collecting their thoughts.

"I don't care what the truth is, to be completely honest with all of you. But I need your help, because once this is done things are very, very likely to get ugly for us. Knight-Commander Maxson wants Danse dead. If I don't kill him, there's a good chance that the good templar is going to come knocking at our door and come do it himself. I would rather die before I let one of my own be killed. So if this goes smoothly, and the Knight-Commander shows up at Skyhold demanding Danse's head... well, we need to prepare ourselves for that eventuality."

Sole turns to Haylen, and she nods to him.

"Ser Haylen is going to help us find him. Preston, Cassandra, Nick, I want you three to come with me to Crestwood. The rest of you, stay on your guard. You see any heavy armor come clanking down to Skyhold, you stand your ground. Haylen, are your tracks covered? I can always grant you safety here, in case, but..."

"I believe I'm safe," she replies. "If Knight-Commander Maxson sent me as the messenger, then there's almost no chance that he suspects that I had any part in this."

"Good. Watch your back just in case. We are heading out as soon as possible. You three, meet me at the gates when you're ready to go. Dismissed!"

* * *

Sole doesn't slow down for a moment. From the second that they step foot outside of the war room, their mind is in overdrive going over the plan of action. Armor is thrown on, knives and their favorite bow secured, extra potions added for good measure. Sole doesn't stop once to linger, urgently moving forward. Maybe it's the anger, maybe it's the blind panic, maybe it's the suffocating worry. Whatever the reason, it carries Sole's legs to the gates of Skyhold despite the overwhelming urge to break down.

Danse is somewhere out in Crestwood, hiding, all alone. The thought steels Sole's resolve even more.

"We have to meet with Knight-Commander Maxson first. We sit through whatever he has to say to us, we make our way out into the area, and we look. If there are demons in the way, we kill them. If there are rifts in the way, we close them. We will not leave until we find Danse, dead or alive."

Sole ruminates for a moment as to which mount to take, before their spite gets the better of them. The Light-Torn Steed, a creature that may not truly be. Clearly a marvel of magic, from an unknown source. Exactly the kind of mount to ride to Knight-Commander Maxson, Sole thinks as they pat the blue-white glow of the creature's muzzle.

Haylen stares at it as Sole saddles the creature. Preston and Nick smile amusedly, knowing exactly why Sole had chosen that one. Cassandra frowns, also aware of Sole's reason.

"It won't need to rest," Sole says as the others climb onto their own horses, even though nobody has asked for an explanation.

"Sure thing, Inquisitor," Nick replies, and Sole can practically hear Cassandra's eyes rolling.

* * *

"I told you, it doesn't need to rest."

"Is... is it even alive?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

Haylen reaches out to the glowing creature, eyes wide, and immediately pulls her hand back when it raises its head to look at her.

"It's not going to bite," Sole laughs. "It's calm. Someone made it to be this way, after all."

The Brotherhood templar tries again, and manages to rub her palm against the horse's muzzle before it whinnies at her, startling her once more.

"Maker's breath! Oh, you mean thing-"

Sole likes Haylen; it's not just her loyalty to Danse, which certainly helps her position in Sole's eyes, but she seems... eager. She's open to learning, open to understanding, but with a wariness to keep her safe. She watches Nick when he casts magic, staring at his fingertips when fire flares into existence around them as if trying to determine how it burns without a source. She stares at his prosthetics, too, watching the tiny gears inside wind and click when he moves his arm. Nick had noticed, of course, being the attentive person he his, and she had been flustered when he'd asked her if she wanted a closer look. Haylen ended up taking him up on the offer, and apparently now had a notebook half-filled with drawings. And now, as they stop for the night, she's busied herself with studying the Light-Torn Steed, trying to understand exactly how the creature functions. The fire is almost burned out, but the light emitted by the horse is enough to illuminate both her and Sole.

"Inquisitor?"

"Yes, Ser Haylen?"

"When we find Danse... promise me you won't hurt him."

"You're afraid that I'm going to kill him?"

"I know that you said that you wouldn't. That you'd decided that you wouldn't. But what if he really is an abomination? If he is just a spirit of valor in a dead man's body? Would you still let him live?"

Sole leans forward, elbows resting on their knees. Haylen turns to Sole, her expression nervous again.

"If he attacks us, I _will_ defend myself and my companions. But I don't think he would do that, spirit or not. Danse is a good person, and a spirit of valor would never attack without good reason, such as being attacked in the first place."

Haylen nods and falls silent, still stroking the Light-Torn's face. It snorts softly at her, and she pauses.

"Inquisitor, I'm glad that you're helping him."

"Of course I am. He may be a Brotherhood templar, but he's become one of the Inquisition as well."

"I don't mean just that, Your Worship. Danse... he trusts you. It would mean everything to him to know that you care about him so much that you would defy the Knight-Commander for him."

"I see," Sole says, those words settling in their chest in a way that makes them look away for a moment. They don't see the look of understanding cross Haylen's face.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to save a templar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up at almost 2.5k words, which is way more than the last few chapters. I really didn't want to split this up into two chapters though, so have one big update.

Sole spends the entirety of their meeting with Maxson repressing the urge to punch the man in the face.

Preston keeps shooting worried looks their way, Nick stays blank-faced as usual, and Cassandra seems to be the only one actually listening to a word that the Knight-Commander is saying. Which is good, because Sole certainly isn't. They get the general gist of Maxson's request though; kill Danse, and return with the man's Brotherhood pendant as proof. Tracking him down may prove difficult, but it certainly isn't outside of the Inquisitor's abilities to do so.

"Very well, Knight-Commander," Sole says, and Maxson watches Sole with a look that betrays some distrust.

* * *

Haylen guides them to the cave where Danse had fled. It at least gives them a starting point, even though it's been several days already.

"He could be anywhere by now. Do you think he would stay around here?" Nick asks.

"Knowing the Knight-Captain, he probably found a hiding spot and stayed there," Haylen explains.

"Self-preservation takes precedence," Cassandra agrees. "And then, he stopped to assess the situation."

"He's probably not in the cave anymore. Time to look for hiding places in the area."

Sole turns the Light-Torn around stiffly, trusting the others to follow their lead.

"Any possible hiding places that you know of, Ser Haylen?"

"There is a ruin north of here, possibly of a small stronghold or watchtower. But it seems to be guarded by a demon. We've lost a few men to it already."

Sole looks northward, to a crumbling stone tower visible in the distance.

"I have a feeling we may find him there, then. Thank you for your assistance, Ser Haylen."

Turning back to Haylen, Sole salutes her, and she returns the gesture.

"Good luck to you, Your Worship," she says, although her eyes say much more.

"And to you," they respond, nodding.

* * *

The ground is uneven, Nick's horse puts its foot through a sinkhole, and the group is beset by gibbering horrors at one point, but they make it to the ruins in record time. It's completely quiet, the only noise coming from the clip-clop of horseshoes against old stone. No animals, no wind, only complete, dead silence.

"I don't think anyone is here," Preston says. "At least, not any people."

"Could be demons. Watch your step," Nick adds.

Everything above the ground level of the stronghold seem to be demolished, save for the single tower standing in the middle. There are a few sections of what seems to be a second floor still standing, but it's mostly just flooring clinging to weathered-down walls. Sole pays attention to those areas, knowing that as good vantage points an enemy could be hiding in their shadows.

A branch snaps underfoot. A few pebbles tumble down, and Sole looks straight up.

In the shadow of the stronghold wall, they can make out a figure in heavy armor staring back. The figure is still for a moment, possibly assessing whether or not it's been spotted, before leaping down with a resounding crash and running off.

Sole practically leaps off of their mount, feet hitting the ground already at a sprint.

"DANSE!" Sole yells, and takes off in pursuit. Cassandra yells in alarm and immediately starts after the Inquisitor, telling them to be cautious. Preston and Nick scramble after the Seeker, trying to keep up despite the rain and mud. Sole doesn't hear any of them following, too absorbed in trying to find Danse.

"Danse, please! It's me! Where are you?"

"Inquisitor, there is no guarantee that he is hiding here, we must look-"

"My legs aren't what they used to be, be nice to an old mage, would ya?"

"Be careful, we don't know what else might be hiding-"

Sole vaults over the waist-high remains of a wall, lands in a wet patch, and goes skidding across the stone before colliding with the opposite wall.

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra calls again, exasperated as she goes around the wall. "Please, slow down!"

"I'm -ow, fucking Void take me- I'm okay!" they shout back, getting back onto their feet. She moves to grab Sole's arm, but Sole is too fast. They don't hear her growl of frustration, too caught up in desperation to pay attention. The figure in heavy armor is Danse, there's no way it can't be him-

"DANSE!" Sole calls out again, panting from exertion as they slowly come to a stop. "DANSE, PLEASE!"

Their companions catch up as they stop for a moment, and Preston puts on hand on Sole's back.

"Inquisitor, you can't run off like that-"

"That was him!"

"It could be a demon! We need to be careful-"

Preston is cut off by the sound of crackling, and a deep rumble. The four of them slowly look up toward the tower, and see a green glow from its base.

"It's _always_ demons," Nick grumbles under his breath, readjusting his hat.

* * *

When they arrive at the rift, there's a figure standing in front of it, staring into the light. Heavy armor, a red mantle across the shoulders.

Danse.

"I knew that the Knight-Commander would send you," he says, still facing away as the group approaches. "Arthur never liked getting his hands dirty."

"Danse?" Sole says, taking a step closer. "Are you okay?"

"You have to kill me."

He turns around finally, and Sole swallows. There's a half-healed cut across his brow, likely from the fight against the abomination. His expression shows nothing but sadness.

"I didn't come here to kill you."

"That's not an option. You have to do it, Inquisitor. I should be the example, not the exception."

"Exception? Exception to what? You're not an abomination, Danse."

"I am a spirit possessing the body of a dead man. I have no right to exist."

"Something's wrong," Preston says from behind them. Nick shifts uncomfortably, inching closer to Preston as the usually stoic look on his face slips into a frown. There's a sudden chill in the air, despite no wind and the relatively comfortable weather.

"Danse, I know you're in trouble. Please, let me help."

Sole takes another step forward. Danse takes a step back, closer to the rift. The cold is getting worse; Sole can see their breath.

"Just get it over with," Danse replies.

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra warns, eyes darting around. "Wait! This is a trap-"

"I know," Sole says, and they take one more step toward Danse.

And then everything is dark all at once.

* * *

Sole opens their eyes slowly, groaning. Where are they? This isn't the ruins. The ground is hard, solid rock, not cobblestone. Looking around, their surroundings seem to be a rocky outcrop, surrounded on all sides by sharp spikes. Cassandra is next to wake, pulling herself up off of the ground and extending a hand to help Sole up.

"So I _was_ right," Nick groans, the clicking of his arm echoing loudly as he rubs his prosthetic. "It is demons. It's always demons. Demons, or the Fade."

"I wish you weren't so right all the time," Preston says. "It's getting to be bad for our health."

It seems that there are several platforms floating around them. They lead in a mimicry of a staircase to a higher platform, dwarfing the one they currently stand on.

"That seems promising," Sole huffs. "No way out but up, I suppose."

Nothing interrupts them as they climb, although they see several wisps float by before disappearing off deeper into the Fade. At the top, the platform seems much the same as the one they began on, simply larger.

At the far end, a huge figure cloaked in tattered rags looms over Danse.

**"How courageous can you even be, Valor? You ran when you were discovered, ran away from a fight. You cannot even embody the trait which you are meant to. A failure as a human, and a failure as a spirit, are you not? And now, ready to die, with no will to fight at all. Giving all of your strength to me, because you cannot guard it."**

Danse lets his head drop, and Sole's blood boils.

 **"Oh, but we have visitors, Valor,"** Despair says, floating around Danse to stand in front of the group. **"The ones who once called you comrade, it seems. The ones you led right to me."**

Sole walks closer, eyes staring straight at the demon.

**"Ah, yes. Led by the one you cared for most. Will you let them kill you, then?"**

Cassandra, Preston, and Nick stop, but Sole continues walking, to their surprise.

**"Or perhaps are you here, Inquisitor, for an exchange?"**

The walk is now a full sprint.

**"Or eager to destroy what is in front of you?"**

Sole pulls their fist back as they stop in front of the demon, and with every ounce of strength, punches Despair straight in the middle of its giant maw.

Apparently, this is a complete surprise to the demon as much as is to Sole's companions. Despair goes tumbling backwards from the blow.

 **"Insolent little human, overconfidence will be your demise!"** the demon shrieks, its voice a horrible, grating noise. Sole makes no acknowledgement of the threat.

"We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way," they say. "You let Danse go, and I let you go. You refuse, and I cut you down."

**"You hold such defiance within you, human. Will that be enough, though? You may take Valor from me, but will your defiance hold back the Knight-Commander's rage?"**

" _I will hold back the entire fucking sky raining demons on Thedas with my own willpower alone!_ " Sole roars, and they can feel their daggers materializing in their hands as they rush forward for another attack. Despair meets them halfway, claws against Fade-created metal.

 **"You may close rifts with your powers, but nothing you do can protect those you hold dear,"** Despair rumbles. **"You will fail, Inquisitor, you will always fail. Why not join Valor, then, if you care so deeply? Join your precious Valor here, if all you try to do will simply fail?"**

The next blow unbalances the demon, forcing it back. Metal slices through torn cloth, exposing blackened skin underneath.

"You don't scare me," Sole snarls.

**"I will challenge that claim, Inquisitor!"**

The darkness that swirls out from Despair's hands feels like a blast of winter air, a deep chill that settles on top of Sole. They can see nothing, although the voices of their companions carry through the darkness. They call for Sole, but it seems that they have problems of their own beyond the darkness.

"Cassandra!" Sole yells, turning wildly. "Nick! Preston! Are you alright?"

But the darkness muffles their replies, until soon nothing remains but silence.

"Danse! Danse, where are you?"

Claw lash out at Sole from the darkness, forcing them into a defensive stance. Grabbing at their arms, swiping at their feet, Sole fights them off as best as possible.

And suddenly, Sole is knocked backwards, landing roughly on the ground. Groaning from the impact, they push themself up on their elbows, only to be held down by an invisible hand. The darkness clears, showing Despair pinning Sole. A face of nothing but giant teeth looms right in front of Sole's own.

**"How powerful are you alone, Inquisitor?"**

"Get off of me-"

The oppressive cold grows, ice crystals blooming across Sole's skin, frost bursting across their armor. Their weapons are gone, and Sole shivers. They can just barely make out Danse behind Despair, on his knees with both hands clutching his chest. Claws that look much too similar to Despair's own hold him down. The other three are nowhere to be seen.

"Danse! You can fight this off, I know it-"

**"Oh, but Valor is already lost."**

The cold seeps in through layers of armor and clothes, through Sole's skin and deep into their chest.

"I won't let you have Danse."

**"He is mine, fallen into hopelessness. Nobody to save him, not even you. I have all of his power now."**

"You're wrong."

**"Your tenacity is admirable. Let us see how long it will last you."**

Sole grits their teeth, willing their daggers to return. Only ice gathers at their fingertips. Everything feels heavy, crushing down on Sole. They're not sure if they're going to survive this. But Sole holds on, snarling and determined.

"Danse is my friend, and I will never let you have him."

**"Oh, but you have failed to save Valor. You have failed to save your friends. You have failed to save yourself. You will die here, and I will have my fill of all of the anguish from your miserable life."**

Claws dig into Sole's throat and shoulders, leaving painful freezing lines across their skin.

"He's not Valor. He's Danse, he's a person, and he deserves much more than to be controlled by you."

**"I believe it is too late for that. _Valor_ is _mine_."**

" _Danse_ isn't yours to _take_ ," Sole growls between clenched teeth.

**"You are in no position to be making such statements, little huma-"**

The sudden roar Despair vocalizes is the most horrible noise Sole has ever heard in their life. Jaw hinged open, as if ready to swallow Sole whole through rows and rows of teeth. For a moment Sole thinks that's exactly what's going to happen when the demon rears back, pulling its claws away from Sole's chest, and swings around. Sole can see a sizeable gash in its flesh as it turns, smoking as if burning away.

**"... _you!_ "**

"Stay back!" Danse snarls, sword in hand held ready to attack again. "Get away from Sole, you foul being!"

 **"You are too late to be acting the hero, Valor!"** Despair hisses.

The second blow almost slices the demon's claws off. With Despair distracted, Sole scrambles to their feet, and a bow materializes in their grip, arrow notched and ready to be shot.

"DESPAIR!" Sole shouts, and the demon turns to see an arrow pointed at its face. "I'LL GIVE YOU ONE LAST CHANCE!"

**"I WILL NEVER LISTEN TO THE INCONSEQUENTIAL BABBLING OF-"**

The demon is rather abruptly cut off by the swing of Danse's sword as it arcs through its head.

It makes no sound as part of its head falls to the ground, dissipating before it even comes into contact with the Fade rock. The body lurches forward, before it comes crashing down, Sole hastily stepping out of the way. And then, just as silently as the piece of its head, the demon's body melts away into nothing.

The dream begins to melt around them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to wake up and face reality.

Sole's eyes fly open, and they scramble off of the ground, nearly smacking Cassandra in the face in the process.

"Oh shit- is- is everyone okay?"

Cassandra helps Sole up into a sitting position, and Preston and Nick nod to them in acknowledgement. Nobody seems to be injured, and when Sole brings their hand up to their throat, they feel no ice.

"Wait, where's Danse-"

Preston motions Sole over, and they see that Danse is lying on the cobblestones still unconscious, strangely without his heavy armor. Sole's heart jumps in their chest.

"Danse, it's okay. We're okay, wake up," they say, gently shaking the templar's shoulder. His eyes flutter weakly, before slowly opening, and Danse turns his head to look at Sole.

"...Inquisitor," he breathes, then covers his eyes with a forearm, shoulders shaking.

"The ground can't possibly be very comfortable," Sole says, smiling. "Here, let's get you up."

Danse lets Sole pull him up into a sitting position, finally letting his arm down limply at his side. There are tears at the corners of his eyes, and Sole gently brushes stray strands of hair from his face.

"Everything is okay. You killed the demon. Where's your armor?"

"I abandoned it when I ran. The demon was using an illusion of me to draw you in," Danse explains. "Inquisitor... why did you walk into that trap? You knew it was a trap."

"I knew it was the only way to save you," Sole replies, brows furrowed. "Danse, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

Danse doesn't respond, simply closing his eyes, before tilting his body forward to rest his forehead on Sole's shoulder.

"...Danse?"

"I'm fine, Inquisitor. Unfortunately."

Sole's gut twists.

"Don't say that," they mutter, placing one hand on the back of Danse's head. "Don't ever say that. And before you ask me again, I'm not going to to kill you."

"Please don't argue with me," he sighs. "It must be done."

"I don't have to do anything. Maxson doesn't give me orders, and you certainly don't either."

" _Sole_ , you must."

Danse pulls away, staring the Inquisitor straight in the eye. He takes Sole's hand and rests it on their belt, right on top of their sheathed dagger.

"Please."

"No."

"Inquisitor-"

" _No_."

"I'm an-"

"You're a person, Danse, whether or not you realize that right now. You've done nothing but help me and the Inquisition. You've given everything you had to the Brotherhood. You don't fight to hurt others, you fight to protect others. And I'm not arguing this with you right now, because we need to leave before Maxson catches on that I'm not handing over your corpse to him."

Danse opens his mouth to argue, probably to say something about _it's not my corpse anyway_ , but he seems to realize that Sole isn't leaving without him. The others seem to be just as determined not to let him go. And so he sighs deeply, looking to the ground.

"...very well."

* * *

Sole considers stopping by the Brotherhood stronghold to at least pretend like they had done what Maxson had asked, but the thought of taking anything from Danse and handing it over like a trophy had made their stomach churn. So the group takes a roundabout route, avoiding Brotherhood patrols as they leave Crestwood.

"Ser Haylen came to me and practically begged for your life," Sole says to Danse as the two of them ride together, Danse's arms looped around Sole's waist.

"She didn't need to do that."

"Of course not. I wouldn't have hurt you."

"That's not what I meant, Inquisitor."

"I know."

Sole glances over their shoulder, giving Danse a reassuring smile.

"No need to worry for her. Maxson suspects nothing, and if she's ever in trouble she's welcome to come to Skyhold."

"I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me too."

Sole hesitates, before placing one hand on top of Danse's clasped ones.

"No matter what happens, I'm going to stand by you," they say softly. "I won't let anyone take you."

Danse makes no response to that, but he squeezes Sole a little bit tighter.

* * *

Mercifully, the group makes it back to Skyhold without incident. Danse looks strange without his armor, Sole thinks, as they help him down from the Light-Torn; they've seen the man without it on before, but that armor had come to be associated with Danse so strongly that its sudden disappearance is jarring.  Danse pats the mount almost hesitantly, as if he'll be shocked by it, and the Light-Torn turns to stare at him with invisible eyes before snorting and nudging him with its nose.

"Yes, yes," Danse chuckles, and rubs the steed's muzzle as well.

"Maker's breath, you're okay!"

Piper comes bolting down the stone steps, almost tripping in the dirt, before half-body-slamming half-hugging Danse. He's completely unexpected by this, and has to take a step backward to keep both of them from sprawling into the mud.

"Piper, what-?"

"We were so worried!" she huffs, although her faux-annoyance doesn't fool Danse for a moment. "We thought you might be dead!"

"Ser Danse! You've returned!" Codsworth says, the dwarf having appeared behind Piper while Danse was too distracted with not landing on the ground. "Oh, I am so glad to see you safe!"

"Monsieur Danse! Oh, merciful Andraste-"

Curie dissolves into rapid Orlesian and begin fussing with Danse's hair and tunic, pulling a worried face at the scarring over his brow.

Danse, in the midst of all of the attention, looks incredibly lost. He turns, wide-eyed, to Sole, who chuckles and disentangles Curie and Piper from Danse.

"Give him some space, he's been through a lot," Sole chides.

"Oh, but Inquisitor he is injured!" Curie objects, pointing to Danse's face. "I should have come with you all, I would be able to heal that without scarring-"

"Curie, I'm okay," Danse says, trying to calm her down. "It's just one scar."

"Just one scar! What other injuries are you hiding from me-"

"Maker have mercy," Sole groans, pinching the bridge of their nose as Curie begins fussing over Danse all over again.

* * *

"A force of fifty will be of no problem to combat, should it ever come to that."

Cullen glances down at the war table, eyes darting across to take a mental note of the placement of Inquisition forces.

"Even at our posts in Crestwood?" Sole asks.

"We have plenty of scouts in the area, and any movement by the Brotherhood would be easily relayed. If a retreat is necessary, it would be possible to do so with minimal loss," Leliana assures. "Inquisitor, there is nothing to be concerned of."

"I will increase patrols around Skyhold, if that might ease your mind, Inquisitor?" Cullen asks. Sole drums their fingers on the war table, considering for a moment before nodding.

"That... would. Thank you, Cullen. And please thank the watch for me. And apologize as well, considering this is more or less my fault."

The commander nods a bit stiffly. Sole can tell that he's having trouble processing everything that's happened recently.

"...Inquisitor?"

All four at the war table turn around; it's Danse, standing with his head through the doorway looking very sheepish.

"Ah, I apologize-"

"No need. We're finished here, anyway."

Sole nods to the advisors. Josephine curtsies, Leliana bows, and Cullen salutes before they file out of the room. Danse looks everywhere except at them as they walk past him.

"Too many people trying to bother you?" Sole asks once the door closes behind Danse, walking quickly over to Danse. He shakes his head.

"No, no. Preston made sure that everyone left me alone," he explains. "But it... all of it is still overwhelming."

"I understand."

Sole takes Danse's hands in theirs, rubbing their thumbs across his knuckles reassuringly.

"Everything is going to be okay. I promise," they murmur, smiling. Danse closes his eyes, nodding, before resting his head on Sole's shoulder.

"This feels like a terrible dream," he admits, voice muffled slightly. "But I know that this is real. I'm sorry, Inquisitor, I just-"

"Need some calm company?"

"Yes."

"I can do that for as long as you need."

Sole pulls Danse against their chest, one arm around his waist and their free hand cradling the back of his head. Danse wraps both arms around Sole, just breathing as Sole holds him tightly.

"If... if the Knight-Commander demands my life, what will you do?"

"I'll fight him to the death for it," Sole promises, and they can feel Danse sigh against their shoulder. "I'll be dead on the ground before I let anyone take any of my friends."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble arrives at Skyhold.

It takes Knight-Commander Maxson a week before storming Skyhold

"Uh-oh," Deacon says, looking out the window of the tower. He's got a clear view of the bridge leading to Skyhold's entrance, and it seems that a group of roughly ten are making their way over.

"'Uh-oh?' What's that supposed to mean?" Hancock asks, frowning. He gets up to look at where Deacon is staring. "This better not be- uh-oh."

"...someone needs to tell the Inquisitor. And Ser Danse," Dorian realizes out loud. "Oh, this cannot be good."

"Time for trouble," Deacon says, leaping up from his chair and dashing out the door. He weaves his way through people easily, making his way to the undercroft where he knows Sole is currently helping Dagna with a project. His rather sudden appearance makes Harritt startle, but Deacon ignores the man's unhappy grumbling to make a beeline for Sole.

"Hey, 'quisitor, we got trouble," he says. "It's shown up in the form of one angry-looking Knight-Commander and a dozen of his best."

Sole freezes, staring at Deacon for a moment.

"...where's Danse?" they ask, face betraying a sliver of sudden fear.

"I don't know. Want me to lock him in the war room so he doesn't try to be heroic?"

"Just... get him out of Maxson's sight. Dagna, I'll be back in just a little bit. I promise."

"Please be safe, Inquisitor?" she says worriedly. "I hope things will be okay."

"I'll make sure they are."

* * *

Sole makes every effort to look completely disinterested as they climb down the stairs of Skyhold to greet Maxson. Apparently it's convincing enough, because the Knight-Commander somehow manages to look even angrier now, standing behind a row of Inquisition soldiers. They part to let Sole through, saluting their Inquisitor.

"Knight-Commander Maxson. What might you and... nine... ten... eleven of your templars be here for?" Sole counts nonchalantly, crossing their arms. They spot Haylen among the group, and she gives them the tiniest of nods in recognition.

"You and I had an agreement-"

"You and I had absolutely no such thing, Knight-Commander," Sole interrupts as loudly as possible. "And coming to Skyhold with your best men to strong-arm me into agreeing with you will not make it so."

"I asked you to kill a dangerous abomination. You agreed to it. And instead, you chose to take it back to Skyhold instead of doing as I had asked," Maxson hisses. "So not only have you gone against your word, you have put countless lives in danger-"

Sole has no intention to let Maxson finish any of his thoughts.

"If you are referring to Danse, he is not an abomination. He's made no attempt at harming anyone, intentionally or not, and no matter what _you_ may believe, _I_ have no proof whatsoever that Danse is a danger to anyone."

"You are testing my patience, Inquisitor!"

"And you are testing mine."

Maxson takes several steps toward Sole, who makes absolutely no indication of moving. Sole had decided on disarming completely, holsters empty of daggers or bow, if only to avoid goading Maxson into a fight. So much for that plan, it seems, as Maxson is very much armed and has Sole very much within striking distance. The soldiers surrounding Sole all take a step toward Maxson, a few of them with polearms pointed toward him. They don't seem to intimidate Maxson at all.

"Give me one good reason, Inquisitor, that I should not demand more than just Danse for this transgression," he snarls.

"I can come up with a _million_ good reasons, starting with the fact that _Danse is not yours to_ -"

"Inquisitor!"

They close their eyes, mouth drawn into a thin line, and despite the sudden dread that courses straight through Sole's body at hearing the voice, their expression remains neutral.

"...I thought Deacon was going to lock you in the war room, or something along those lines," they mutter, and Danse pushes his way past Inquisition soldiers to approach.

"Trust me, Inquisitor, he tried," Danse replies, looking apologetic. "But I wasn't going to let you put yourself in harm's way for my sake."

Maxson snorts dismissively, narrowing his eyes at Danse. Danse stares back, unafraid.

"Inquisitor, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I won't let you be pulled into this."

"Danse, absolutely not."

"It's okay. We tried. I'm not going to die with regrets, thanks to you."

"Oh, it is absolutely not okay, and I will not settle for _trying_ to keep you from being murdered."

"I have no idea why you would protect this abomination, Inquisitor. But regardless of why you have chosen to make a terrible mistake, I am going nowhere until _it_ is dead," Maxson growls, jerking his head toward Danse. Sole's arms uncross, and suddenly they look very, very tired.

"Since you apparently have absolutely _no_ understanding of what I've been telling you, I'm going to lay this out for you in _certain, clear, terms_ ," Sole retorts, voice carrying through the entire courtyard. They're angry, and frustrated, and very close to simply punching Maxson in the face to solve this problem much like they did with the despair demon. "No matter what you may believe Danse to be, he is a person. He deserves the right to live just the same as you and I. You seem to have so easily forgotten how much Danse has given to you and to your Brotherhood, considering your first reaction was to hunt him down. He fought and bled just as any other Brotherhood templar. But you can't see that, can you? Fortunately, I can. And fortunately, I have taken in Danse as an agent of the Inquisition. It is the Inquisition's responsibility to maintain the _safety_ and _well-being_ of its members as best as possible. If either are _threatened_ , then the Inquisition _will_ respond in the most appropriate manner to protect them."

Sole closes the distance between themself and Maxson until they're face to face with him, barely a few inches apart.

"If you continue to threaten Danse's life, I will _not_ hesitate to kill you, Knight-Commander. If any of the Brotherhood of Steel attempt the same, I will kill them as well. I will make an example of you, to show the Inquisition's enemies what happens when anyone dares harm the Inquisition. If _any_ of you harm Danse in _any_ way, Maker have mercy on your souls because I. Will. _NOT._ "

The silence is deafening. Sole stares at Maxson, daring him wordlessly to act.

"Do I make myself _clear_ , Knight-Commander?"

Maxson glares back at Sole, apparently considering his choices. He is outnumbered, and even with an unarmed Inquisitor in front of him there are plenty of soldiers around to defend them. Any attempt at attacking Danse would likewise be met with the same outcome, possibly with the Inquisitor directly attacking him in retaliation. Sole has no weapons on them, but Maxson doesn't know that for sure.

"...it seems that we have come to an impasse, Inquisitor."

"Have we, now?"

"Yes," Maxson growls through clenched teeth, and Sole has to fight to keep the cold frown on their face from slipping into a smug grin.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole has it bad; Danse hears some encouraging words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my friends wanted to see Strong and Iron Bull fight like deer in an antlerlock. I had to oblige.

Sole finds themself in Danse's company quite frequently after the incident with Maxson; if Sole is honest with themself, it's entirely because they're worried sick that something is going to happen to Danse. Maxson had felt too easy to talk down. There has to be something worse coming.

Right?

"I'll be alright, Sole," Danse says with a soft chuckle. He's started to call Sole by their name rather than their title when it's just the two of them in a private conversation, no curious ears to overhear them or no official matters to speak of. Perhaps it was hearing Sole so vehemently defend them against Maxson, or because Sole has made an effort to be at Danse's side more often. Whatever the reason, Danse is clearly much closer to Sole than he was before. Sole's heart jumps in their chest every time Danse brushes against them as they walk together, or when Danse's now-perpetual frown is interrupted by the smallest of smiles. Just like the one he's giving them now, in fact.

Sole tries their best to keep their feelings out of this. Danse needs support from a friend who cares about him, not confusing romance. Especially not with Sole, considering the kind of gossip that would cause.

"I want to make sure," Sole replies, their calm expression hiding the sensation of their heart doing cartwheels in their stomach. "I'm worried about you. If you ever need anything-"

"I will not hesitate to ask, of course," Danse finishes for them, taking Sole's hands in his. Sole's heart goes from doing cartwheels to nearly stopping.

* * *

Dorian and Cullen are talking, and Danse wonders for a moment if he should just turn around and take the longer route instead of putting himself anywhere near Cullen. Decision made for the former, he ducks into a hallway before he's seen only to walk right into Warden Blackwall.

No, Blackwall. Just Blackwall. Like how he's just Danse now, not Ser Danse.

"Ah, my apologies," Blackwall says, looking a bit bewildered. "You seem to be in a rush."

Blackwall steps aside to let Danse through, but Danse looks over his shoulder, sighs, and shakes his head.

"No, I- Commander Cullen and Dorian are speaking right outside," Danse explains. Blackwall nods in understanding.

"I see," he says, not asking for any further explanation.

Danse had gone from talking constantly with several of the Inquisitor's inner circle to very pointedly avoiding every last one of them at the drop of a hat after everything that had transpired. He actively avoids Cullen and Iron Bull, keeps a wide distance from MacCready and Cait, and never speaks more than a single sentence to Deacon, Piper, and Hancock. It had alarmed Sole, of course, which is part of the reason why Sole began spending more time with Danse.

"Avoiding him isn't going to help you, Danse," Blackwall says. "Running from problems never fixes them."

Danse's mouth quirks up on one side; of course the runaway criminal would know.

"I'm not running from a problem. I keep my distance for his sake."

"The Commander might be wary of demons, but you have little to do with that."

"Blackwall, I am an _abomination_."

The man's expression sours.

"I'm sure the Inquisitor has already told you everything that I could possibly say to you in response," Blackwall begins. "But do you have any memory of falling into the various vices that demons embody? Uncontrolled rage? Insatiable greed? Any of that, ever?"

Danse thinks, and comes up with nothing that would truly fit the level of severity that Blackwall is asking.

"...no," he admits.

"How we came to be is something out of our control. But how we act, the choices we make, we can control that. Even if we are led in various wrong paths, it is also always possible to make a different decision. I chose to run when I should have taken responsibility for my actions. And later, after I chose to run, I realized my mistake. I could have stayed silent while an innocent man was executed. But I realized that I could not truly be a good man if I did not admit my wrongdoing."

Blackwall smiles at Danse, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You are a unique individual, Danse. But that uniqueness is not what defines you; it's the choices you make, the actions you commit to."

Cullen and Dorian's voices are beginning to get louder. Danse looks ready to bolt, so Blackwall hastily gives him one last bit of advice before he loses the former templar.

"Danse, no matter what anyone may think or say about you, remember that. Your actions are far more important than the reason for your existence."

"Thank you," Danse says, and leaves the hallway in a manner that can't be described in any way other than "panicked fleeing."

Blackwall watches him go, sighing, and worries if Danse will ever be able to talk to any of his friends again.

* * *

There's crashing and screaming and loud, deep, grunting, and Sole is able to put two and two together before they even see what's going on.

Strong smashes horns-first into Iron Bull, who has his head lowered as well to catch the attack. It's almost like watching two bucks butting heads, except that in this case it's a Tal-Vashoth and a qunari, and the effect is about twenty times more terrifying. Strong's horns are spiraled like a ram's, much better for headbutting than Bull's wide, dragon-like ones. Bull has both of Strong's fists held against his palms, holding the Tal-Vashoth from swinging at him while the two of them growl at each other. Strong rears his head back and this time Iron Bull meets him halfway, horns crashing against each other.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH BOTH OF YOU?!" Sole roars, pushing past the ring of Inquisition soldiers that had gathered around the two fighting men to keep them from destroying anything. Danse follows close behind as usual, trying to keep up with Sole.

"Not my fault, Boss!" Iron Bull grunts, digging his heels into the dirt to keep Strong in place. Strong frowns and pushes harder.

"Strong did nothing wrong!" the Tal-Vashoth yells. "Iron Bull talks about the Qun!"

Sole wants to kick both of them. Iron Bull should know better than to talk about anything even remotely related to the Qun around Strong, and Strong should know better than to attack Iron Bull.

"I wasn't talking to _you_ about it!"

"You talk about the Qun when Strong is nearby! You hate Strong, you think it funny to talk about the Qun around Strong!"

"What the- do you seriously think that?"

Bull suddenly sidesteps, and Strong goes sprawling into the mud.

"You're kidding, right? Do you actually think I talk about things just to piss you off?" Bull asks incredulously. "Or that I hate you, for that matter?"

Strong scrambles to his feet and stomps at Iron Bull, narrowing his eyes.

" _Yes_ ," he snarls.

"I'm sorry that you think that, but I really don't."

"Strong doesn't believe you!"

"Strong, _listen_. My people are at constant war with Tevinter, I am scared _absolutely shitless_ of spirits and demons, and yet here I am with a former Tevinter soldier as my lieutenant, and spending my time around a magister and two people who are apparently spirits possessing dead bodies, one of them who won't stop saying all of my thoughts out loud. I've said this before, but it is too much work to hate individuals. I don't hate Krem, or Dorian, or Cole, or Danse, and I certainly don't hate you."

Strong narrows his eyes at Iron Bull, apparently assessing the truthfulness of that statement. Iron Bull shrugs at him.

"It's your choice whether or not you believe me. I don't blame you if you don't. But that's how things are, okay?"

"Strong, honestly. Back off, don't headbutt anybody anymore, okay? I'm serious," Sole says, stepping up closer. Strong stares at Sole, eyes still doubtful, before grumbling and walking off. Sole swings back around to glare at Iron Bull. "And you! Bull, you should know better!"

"I didn't know he was around when I was talking."

"He's literally the only other person around here the same size as you!"

Sole leaves that conversation a little less frustrated, although they still can't wrap their mind around the idea of Bull not noticing Strong in his general vicinity. When they return to Danse's side, they notice Danse looking deep in thought.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh! I, um, yes, actually... I was thinking about what Iron Bull said."

"About the qun, or about hating people?"

"Hating people. He... specifically said my name."

"He did."

"...I wasn't hallucinating that, was I?"

Sole chuckles and shakes his head.

"No, you weren't. Iron Bull wouldn't hate you, Danse."

The _just_   _like I said_  goes unspoken; Sole doesn't need to needle Danse like that. Danse seems a bit torn.

"If you want, you should go talk to him," Sole urges. "You haven't talked to anyone since you got back to Skyhold. "

"Perhaps... perhaps later. But I will."

Sole would prefer sooner than later, but they'll take whatever small victories they can. With a smile, Sole wraps an arm around Danse's shoulders and ducks in closer as the two of them walk off, resuming their earlier conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strong is a Tal-Vashoth in this. His speech pattern is more grammatically correct, although I kept the third person perspective. Maybe he feels rather strongly about being "Strong" and having a name instead of just being a rank, so he always calls himself Strong instead of using first person pronouns.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers to nagging questions are closer than initially thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bumped up the number of chapters if only because I doubt this is going to end with one more chapter after this. Still not sure the exact number, but 18 sounds about right!

There's really only one way to settle Danse's constant claims of being an abomination, and Sole is going to settle this no matter what.

"You don't remember anything strange at all?" Sole asks, both hands on Danse's shoulders. "Anything in your memory that seems odd? And I mean anything, Danse. Literally anything that doesn't seem completely right."

Danse shakes his head, looking down at the ground.

"Nothing, Sole. I'm sorry-"

"No apologizing. We'll figure this out, okay?"

The reassuring smile on Sole's face makes Danse smile back in return, although his is slightly sadder.

"We'll think of something," Sole repeats. "Believe me, we're going to figure this out."

* * *

"If memories are the issue... well. I am certain Cole knows how to bring up even forgotten ones."

Solas turns to Cole, who nods his head in assent.

"It's always there," he explains. "I can find it."

Asking Cole for help initially is not what Sole had hoped for, given Danse's apprehension of Cole. But their options otherwise are nil. There isn't much else possible, and Danse is eager for any method to help him remember.

Varric quirks an eyebrow at Danse, who is standing much too stiffly to be comfortable. "You still okay with this, Bucket-head?"

In return, he gets a scowl for the nickname, and a nod for the question.

"I can think of no other alternative," Danse says. "Although some- some privacy would be appreciated."

"Our cue to get out," Varric obliges, and pushes Solas out of the room perhaps a little too roughly. It's just three left in the room now, with Sole, Danse, and Cole.

"Cole, if he tells you to stop, you need to stop, okay?" Sole explains firmly. "I know you want to help, but if you don't stop when he asks you to, it won't help."

"I understand."

"Good."

Sole moves to stand in front of Danse, one hand on his shoulder.

"Don't push yourself into anything you're not comfortable with. And if you need me to leave, you tell me to, okay?"

"Yes."

With that settled, Sole steps out of the way and gestures to Cole. Danse bridges the distance between them, Sole following behind, and Cole looks up from under the brim of his hat to stare Danse straight in the eye.

"I need to know when I- when I merged with the templar Danse," he says softly. "When Valor took over his body."

Cole blinks, eyes flickering across Danse's face, and his mouth opens as he begins to recite a long-forgotten memory.

* * *

_They took Cutler._

_Took him, the demons. Hand held out, screaming, fingers slip._

_Away, away, deeper, dragged away._

_Everything hurts. Need to keep moving._

_Fear and horror and terror, holding him down._

_Dying, dying, slipping away. Need to stay, need to stop Cutler. Need to save him._

_Too much weight, too much pain. Too heavy, too much, so, so alone._

_Help! Please save Cutler, please don't let him be a monster-_

* * *

"Cole, _STOP!_ "

Cole jolts but his mouth clamps shut, not another word from him. Next to Sole, Danse is shaking violently, eyes wide, mouth pressed into a firm line as he breathes too quickly through his nose.

"Danse, Danse, talk to me," Sole pleads, shaking him lightly by the shoulder. "Danse, please say something. Everything is okay. You're okay-"

"Please..."

"Anything, Danse. Anything."

"Please- let Cole continue."

Danse is still shaking like a leaf, the tremors in his hands making it difficult for him to even reach for Sole. Sole grabs his hand and squeezes tightly, concern written across their face.

"Are you sure?" they ask, smoothing a thumb over twitching fingers. "You don't have to do this right now if it's too much."

"No, I- I must know. Now."

His eyes close, his breathing evening out slowly but surely, and when Danse opens his eyes again he's stopped hyperventilating. His hands are still trembling, but they're steady enough now that he can twist the one in Sole's grasp to squeeze back.

"I'm okay," he reassures. "Cole, please continue."

* * *

_Nobody is here. Alone? Only me, only me and Cutler and the demon._

_I'm sorry, Cutler. I'm so sorry. I can't save you. I can't stop you._

_A voice? Not human, not elven. Not a person._

_Another demon? No, a spirit._

_Promise you'll save him. Promise me you'll save Cutler. Please._

_**Valor** , please._

_Help him._

* * *

Cole's eyes open, staring straight at Danse.

"A spirit of valor, but you are Danse," he says. "Like me. I'm Cole. I'm Compassion. I'm both. And so are you."

"...both?" Danse asks incredulously. "How does that... what are you saying, Cole?"

"I died in the White Spire. They locked me away and forgot me. I was alone. And when I died, Compassion found me. Compassion held my hand as I died."

"The spirit merged with the mage Cole's body when he died," Sole muses out loud. "Are you... is that what happened to Danse, Cole?"

Cole nods gravely.

"Cutler- oh Maker. How could I have- It makes sense. It all makes sense."

Danse sways dangerously, and Sole hastily pushes him in the direction of a chair before he crumples on the ground. He rubs his hands over his face as he sits, eyes darting around the room.

"It makes sense," he repeats. "I... I remember. I didn't think anything of it, I didn't remember dying. Maker's breath, I _died_. I... Cutler _killed_ me. He was possessed by a demon, and I had to save him. I had to kill him. But the demon was so powerful, and I couldn't kill it. I was too weak. So I... I called out for help, and..."

"You got help from a spirit," Sole finishes.

"Yes. It must have... I must have... Why didn't I remember, then? Why didn't I remember, the way you do?"

"I don't know," Cole admits. "But it's hard to remember dying."

"So this means though, that Danse asked for help. That he's not-" Sole begins, but is quickly cut off by Cole.

"Valor came to Ser Danse as he lay dying. Ser Danse reached out, asking for help, and Valor helped him kill Ser Cutler."

"And the only way Valor could do that was by possessing Danse."

"Yes."

"Maker's breath," Danse murmurs. "A spirit of valor, who came to the aid of a dying templar to help him save his best friend."

"There isn't anything about you that makes you an abomination. You came about from goodness, Danse, from wanting to save your friend and keep others safe."

"I suppose I did."

He falls silent, deep in thought, although there's the barest hint of a smile on his face.

"What does that make me, then? Would... am I just the spirit, then?"

The smile slips away as he asks the question, and Danse looks back to Cole for help.

"You are Danse. You are Valor," Cole says. "No line to divide."

No division between the two, but rather an amalgamate. Sole isn't sure how to process that thought; they've had little dealing with possession, much less possession that had led to the creation of people such as Danse or Cole.

"So, both? Like you, Cole?"

"Like me."

Danse thanks Cole a bit stiffly, although his apprehension seems to be gone and he smiles as he watches Cole disappear into thin air. It's a marked difference from before, where Cole's tendency to do so startled Danse to no end.

"Are you okay?" Sole's concern returns as Danse stands, his hands still shaky. "That was a lot to take in. And... a lot to have someone else hear, too..."

Suddenly Sole wonders if being here with Danse had been a good idea. They'd intended it as support for Danse, but the idea now seems like an invasion of privacy. Danse just shakes his head, smiles at Sole in that way that makes Sole's heart melt.

"I'm thankful for your support, Sole. And I'm okay. I'm... I'll be okay."

Sole opens their arms, silently offering a hug, and Danse gladly accepts it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse and his new-found abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter than the others. I've been kinda busy, and school is starting up, so chapters might either take longer to post or be shorter like this one.

"Cole, do you suppose I have... abilities, like yours?"

Danse has had time to fully absorb the truth of his existence. The conversation had been rough, initially, but at least now he knows the truth. There's a feeling of liberation that comes from it, to truly know how he came to be. And while he doesn't wish to bother Cole any further than he has, this is a question only Cole can answer as well. Or at least, he thinks so. So he approaches Cole again, this time as the boy scatters feed for the chickens.

"Perhaps," is all Cole says in response. Danse waits patiently for more, and when he doesn't get any further reply, raises an eyebrow.

"Is that all?"

"I don't know."

Oh. Well. Now he feels foolish.

"Is there anything a spirit of valor can do that would be considered unique to it, and not just any spirit?"

"They are warriors. They are skilled in fighting. Perhaps your skills are honed to combat."

Danse already knows that much about spirits of valor. It seems that the only way for him to find out exactly what he can do is to test it out himself. He thanks Cole, and sets off toward the training dummies.

* * *

"It always has to be demons, doesn't it, Boss?"

"You knew that I was going out specifically to close rifts, Bull. You don't get to complain when I gave you a choice."

"You said we might fight a dragon."

"I said there was a dragon in the area. I meant that as a _warning_ , not as a _promise_."

Iron Bull has no business pouting like that, really, considering that Sole had indeed given him fair warning before setting off. But Iron Bull, apparently drawn more to the possibility of fighting a dragon than pushed away by the idea of demons, had come along anyway.

"No fair, Boss."

"Not all of us are keen on being roasted alive, Bull."

"Says the person who nearly got roasted alive by a rage demon."

"Look, rage demon? I can handle. Sandy Howler? No."

"Same concept of being set on fire."

"Much different level of severity!"

Sole bickers with Bull all the way back to the stone steps of Skyhold, and they only stop when they catch sight of Danse attempting to cleave one of the training dummies in two with his sword. It's a surprise to see him out and about while Sole is gone, actually, and Sole can't help feel a little bit proud.

"Hold that thought, Bull," Sole says, and immediately takes off toward Danse. He seems to be concentrating entirely on his sword, muttering under his breath as he makes slow strokes before following with a much faster one. The sound of Sole's feet isn't enough to break his concentration, and so Sole coughs politely.

"S- Inquisitor," he says, and takes a polite bow. Sole tilts their head in recognition.

"You seem to be quite focused. I'm sorry for interrupting, but what are you practicing?"

Danse smiles, apparently eager to explain.

"Ah, I had been thinking about Cole's abilities. He isn't a mage, but being a... partial spirit? I suppose, gives him some unique abilities. I had wondered if the same might be true of me."

"Any luck yet?"

"...unfortunately, no."

"You and Cole are unique. Don't be discouraged if you don't find that you can't disappear at will too," Sole replies with a smile. The encouragement makes Danse nod and smile back. He seems much more cheerful than before. Perhaps talking to Cole had helped him ease some of his worries, after all.

Sole would prefer to stay here and talk to Danse, but there are artifacts to be cataloged and dwarven mosaic pieces to be turned over, and Josephine probably has a missive from some Orlesian noble demanding their time. They pat Danse's shoulder, a sign now between the two of them indicating a conversation to be continued later.

"Good luck, Danse. If you discover any new tricks, tell me?"

"Of course, Inquisitor," he replies, and the smile on his face looks genuine this time.

* * *

This is not good.

Sole's bow lays somewhere out of reach, but it's been smashed to pieces anyway. There's the taste of blood in their mouth, Curie's angry screaming coming from somewhere behind them, and a pride demon's ear-rending screeching echoing through the entire battlefield. It's impossible to tell where it's coming from now.

Coughing hurts. Their ribs are probably broken. There appears to be one, no, two rage demons attempting to smother Varric.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

The pride demon is approaching. Footsteps shaking the earth from the weight, and Sole is lifted into the air.

Shit shit shit shit shit. It really, really hurts.

Nobody is close enough to reach the pride demon in time to pull its attention away from Sole. Varric attempts to help with a few bolts, but hesitates for too long between each shot out of fear of hitting Sole.

Danse looks up, and Sole sees his eyes widen. Sole can only reach out weakly toward him.

"NO!"

They're about to be slammed into the ground, the force of it probably enough to snap Sole's neck or crush their chest completely. Danse moves, and then suddenly there's a burst of yellow light that streaks toward the pride demon.

Sole is falling.

The impact is going to hurt, maybe not quite as much as being slammed, but it's still going to hurt. They're bracing for more pain, except when they collide it isn't with the ground and while it still does hurt, it's quite a bit less so than expected.

"Sole, please hold on!"

Danse's voice. Coming from right in front of them. Sole cracks one eye open, and realizes that Danse is carrying them.

"Something something sweeping me off my feet," they mutter deliriously, a hysterical giggle bubbling up in their chest despite the pain. Danse just looks even more concerned, then ducks when the pride demon swipes at both of them. He's actually rather fast on his feet now that he's not wearing his heavy armor. Not fast enough to avoid the pride demon though, and when the next swipe comes down Danse attempts to block it with his sword. But as the blow connects, another burst of yellow appears, this time in front of Danse in a partial dome. Claws glance of off the barrier-like glow, and Danse takes the opportunity to run as fast as he can in the opposite direction.

Sole just barely manages to turn their head to see a rage demon blocking Danse's path, and they yell in alarm. Danse doesn't slow down though, no, not even with Sole held against him; Danse charges it, snarling like an angered beast, and out of the corner of Sole's eye his sword glows yellow. That's supposed to be a sword meant to be held with two hands, not with one hand on the hilt and the other clinging onto a half-conscious person. And yet Danse manages to swing it, the blade leaving a line of too-bright gold as it moves, and impacts against the demon's side.

The demon goes flying.

Sole watches as it's knocked sideways, its legless mass upending and definitely breaking contact from the ground as it's flung several yards out of Danse's path. The pride demon has caught up though, and is trying to finish what it started.

"Curie! Varric!" Danse yells, dodging another swipe. It's a difficult task to do while carrying someone. "Retreat!"

"Bucket-head, how the hell are we supposed to-"

" ** _JUST RUN!_** " he roars, all patience lost.

There's a tone to his voice that reminds Sole of Cullen. That commanding tone. Danse had never used it around Sole, or any of the inner circle, as he was never in any position to command the others. But Danse had been a Knight-Captain once, and he had templars under his command to issue orders to.

"Yer cute when yer angry," Sole slurs. "An' when yer yellin' 'n that c'mander voice-"

"Sole, please, stay quiet," he says, but there's a definite blush on his face despite the pressure of the situation.

Sole opens their mouth to speak again, and then promptly blacks out. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wake up, Sole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit _an update_

The first thing Sole is aware of is that their chest really hurts.

They start to inhale before flinching, teeth gritting at the sharp pain that radiates from their ribs. Broken, probably. Even shallow breaths causes pricks to erupt, and Sole gives up entirely when they start to feel light-headed from a lack of air. It's either pass out from not breathing, or put up with this pain.

Sitting up isn't an option, so Sole turns their head to the side. They're in their room, back in Skyhold. Where had they been before?

Suddenly, it all comes back in a rush; the demons, Curie and Varric and Danse, nearly being killed by the pride demon. Danse ordering the others to flee, carrying Sole. What had happened? Where are they?

"Everything is fine, darling."

Vivienne's voice startles Sole. She approaches from the balcony, a glass cup in her hand, and hands it to Sole. The cup is pleasantly warm against the palms of their hands, and fizzes faintly.

"That will help the pain," she explains, and Sole carefully tips it to their lips. There's a breeze that blows through the room from the open doors of the balcony, and the sun is just barely peering over the Frostback Mountains. Early morning, then.

At Sole's left, someone is slumped over asleep with their head pillowed in their arms. The blanket covering them hangs over their head, and Sole moves to pull it back.

"How long as Danse been here?"

"Since you returned," Vivienne replies, moving to the other side of the bed to readjust the blanket so that it lays across Danse's shoulders. He shifts in his sleep, brow furrowed in almost concentration-like severity. "He brought you here, and then refused to leave. The healers set your ribs and mended them, but you were weak from blood loss and he was concerned for you."

"Blood loss isn't the worst thing that's happened to me," Sole points out. The prickling of the Anchor at their palm intensifies for a moment before dying down, as if proving itself worthy of that title.

"I am aware, but nothing could sway him. I suspect that once he awakens, he will continue to act as though you are dying."

The exasperation in Vivienne's voice is tinged with mirth, and Sole can't help but grin.

"You know what he's like, Viv. He always worries."

As if on cue, Danse starts to stir; his head rises, blinking away the sleep from his eyes, and Sole smiles at him. He smiles back nervously, reaching for Sole's hand, and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

"Good morning, I promise I'm not dying," Sole says, and Danse sighs.

Vivienne politely excuses herself, leaving the two of them alone. Sole relaxes back into the bed, the pain-numbing potion starting to work rather quickly. Perhaps one of Vivienne's personal creations?

"Are you feeling okay?" Danse asks.

"Better, thanks to Viv's potion. I hope you didn't stay up all night."

Danse glances away at that, and Sole sighs. And then winces when that causes some more pain.

"Be careful with your movements," Danse says. "The healer informed me that while your bones are healed together, they need time to return to their usual strength."

"So you mean I might break them again?"

"Apparently so."

"Andraste's tits."

Sole notices that there's no chiding from Danse at their swearing. Danse looks stressed, still, and Sole frowns.

"Hey. I'm not dying. I'm alright," they say. "You saved me. We're safe."

"You almost didn't make it," Danse replies in an exhale, his head bowing. "You- you were unconscious and bleeding out. One of your lungs had collapsed. You almost suffocated on your own blood."

"I'm okay now," Sole repeats again, this time more firmly as Danse grips their hand tighter.

"You almost weren't."

Sole can't argue against that. Instead, they untangle their hand from Danse's grip and slowly attempt to slide over on the bed.

"Sole?"

"C'mere," Sole says, groaning a little when trying to sit up results in another jolt of pain. "This bed is big enough for both of us."

"Wh- no! What are you doing?"

"I'm - ouch - making space for you. Come here."

"Sole-"

"At least get comfortable if you're going to be here all day. No more sleeping bent over the bed."

Danse hesitates for another moment, before sighing and climbing into bed next to Sole. He pulls the covers over himself again and settles in.

It's silent for a while.

 

Sole sighs very deeply, and winces.

"I'm too tired and in too much pain to be proper about this or whatever," they begin, closing their eyes. "So I'm really not going to be eloquent about this. But. Y'know. I love you."

Danse's head does a sharp turn to the right, given the noise that Sole hears.

"You-"

"Yeah. Now probably isn't the time to talk about it, I guess, since my brain can't function all that well right now, but. Yeah."

Danse is staring at Sole when they open their eyes and look to the left.

"You're adorable when you're surprised, you know that?"

"I- I believe I may have heard something along those lines before," he answers, smiling, and he turns a bit red in the face. "I love you too."

"That's a relief," Sole chuckles. "Um. Sorry to say that after I kind of pulled you into my bed."

"Go to sleep, Sole," Danse replies.

"I just woke up."

"You said yourself that you're too tired to talk at length about this. Go to sleep, and we should talk about this once you wake up rested."

"You're too smart."

" _Sleep_ , Sole."

Danse lifts his arm up to let Sole scoot in closer, and Sole puts their head on Danse's shoulder. Vivienne's potion is starting to kick in properly now, leaving Sole with just the earlier exhaustion coming back to pull them into sleep.

"Thanks for saving my life," is the last thing Sole remembers mumbling drowsily before nodding off.

 


End file.
